


Darkness And Pain

by The_Risen_Phoenix



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Betrayal, Break Up, Character Death, Dark Nero - Freeform, Demonic Possession, Engagement, Fevers, Hurt, Introspection, M/M, Madness, Mafia!Nero, Major Illness, Papa Vergil, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Vampires, Violence, War, Werewolves, Whumptober 2019, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 35,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Risen_Phoenix/pseuds/The_Risen_Phoenix
Summary: Short fics for the Whumptober 2019 challenge.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Because apparently I hate myself and have decided to attempt this challenge again this year. Who knew my brain would decide that trying to write 7 fics on the go wasn't enough?
> 
> As usual, I have no Beta, so feel free to point out any mistakes that I make.

V stared down at his shaking hands.

His body was so weak and fragile now, nothing at all compared to what he had used to be, before his other half had forcefully cut V from himself. And though these hands were arguably new, V could still see the long vanished stains of blood coating them. He could feel the weight of all of those deaths that he had caused, even if he hadn't been the one in control then.

But now, now that he had removed the devil from himself, now he could understand just what strife he had wrought.

But he would make things better, he promised himself. Although he was weak, he could still make a difference; could still stop the demon from destroying this world that humans lived in. But he would need help, he knew. He could not do this alone, not if he wanted to actually make a real difference. Alone perhaps, V could save maybe a few people, and that would be ok, but he wanted to save everyone. V wanted to save the world, and maybe in the process, he could save what little innocence and humanity was still left within himself.

V knew that killing the demon would mean the end of himself, but what was such a small sacrifice in the face of all that he had done? Did the world not deserve this as recompense for the sins that he had committed? Was Dante not owed his own pound of flesh for the torment and struggles that Vergil had put him through?

Could V have struggled harder against himself, made himself known, and not let himself be suppressed and ignored for the majority of their life? Would it have made a difference if he had tried? Or would Vergil have cut him from himself much sooner? Would Mundus have taken this perceived weakness and torn it from Vergil himself? Or would Dante have saved him from it all? Could his hands have remained free from the stains of his past?

V clutched his cane within his hands, the shaking being ignored as he gripped the cool metal as hard as possible. Whatever he decided, and however he decided to do it, V would not make a difference standing on his own before the wooden doors of the lion's den.

One step, then two, and finally V stood close enough to push open the door – could hear Morrison speaking to the other man inside, and knew that he should enter. He should face his past, and his present; and perhaps if he was lucky, Dante would not recognise him while he wore a stranger's face. And maybe, just maybe, Dante would take his weak hand into his own strong one, and would grant his request for help.

Taking one last deep breath, V laid his shaking hand upon the door and pushed it open.


	2. Explosion

Nero was home when he heard about the explosion. He had been flicking through the channels of the TV when the news broke. Five words was all it took, five words that brought his world crashing down.

'Explosion at Devil May Cry.'

Normally Nero would have been worried about Dante and Vergil, but both older men had decided to take off on an extended 'holiday' to the underworld, still dealing with the Qliphoth roots down there. So in theory DMC should have been empty, and Nero should have only had to worry about how he would break the news to Dante if or when he eventually returned. But today V had wanted to head over to the shop; had wanted to collect a few rare books that he knew that Vergil had stashed there earlier.

And that meant that V had been there when the explosion happened. Nero frantically patted himself down, trying to locate his phone, and dialling V as soon as he located it.

“The person you are calling, is not available. Please leave a message after the tone, or try again later.”

Nero hung up with a curse, heart pounding furiously within his chest, and hitting redial as fast as he could.

“The person you are callin...” Nero hung up again, phone dropping to the ground as he buried his head within his hands.

V....V could be gone. They had gone through too much together for V to die like that. It wasn't fair! Nero wanted to scream, digging his fingers into his head to try to hold himself together, breaths coming faster and faster until he started to feel dizzy. Distantly, Nero could hear his phone ring, and he fell upon the device with hope.

“V? Where are you baby? Are you alright?” Nero questioned frantically, not even checking to see who had called.

“Nero?” Nero wanted to burst into tears when he heard Kyrie's voice. “Nero is V ok? Nero?”

Nero steadied his breathing, knowing that he was scaring his friend, and not wanting to do that. Selfishly, Nero felt like he couldn't deal with Kyrie panicking over him, not when he was already a mess about V.

“There was an explosion at DMC, V was there and I can't get a hold of him now.”

A sharp inhale of breath from Kyrie was heard, before she responded to Nero with a steady voice. “Stay where you are, we are coming to you. We're going to stay with you until we hear any news ok?”

“We?” Nero asked faintly, shock starting to set in. Nero could feel himself start to fade from the conversation, could tell that Kyrie was still speaking, but could not understand the words anymore.

In fact, Nero didn't even realised that he was holding the phone to his ear still, dial tone beeping at him. He didn't realised that he had been staring straight ahead at nothing for over an hour, and was startled when suddenly his friends were before him. A steaming mug of something sweet was being pushed into his slack hands, his phone taken away and laid on the table before him.

Nero had fought whoever tried to take his phone, had known that he needed it, that V might try to call him at any moment, and he needed to be able to answer him as fast as he could.

His friends surrounded Nero, and tried to distract him. They didn't say anything as every few minutes, Nero would pick up his phone and try calling V. They all checked their own phones, watching the news in other rooms, just in case bad news appeared. They could see ambulances in the shots, fire crews helping to clear the wreckage, and police crawling all over the place.

A muffled shout from Nico drew the other's attention, Nero distracted once more by trying to get in contact with V. With silent communication, Credo stayed beside Nero, while Kyrie hurried to Nico's side.

“What is it Nico?” She asked softly.

“There, on that stretcher! It's V!” Nico pointed the man on the stretcher out excitedly.

Peering closer, Kyrie could just make out the dark tattoos that covered Nero's lover's arms, his dark hair tousled, and face covered by an oxygen mask. There was blood and dust all over him, and from the looks on the faces of the medics, things weren't looking great. But there was still hope.

“What hospital are they taking the survivors to?” Kyrie asked urgently.

“Central.” Nico spoke, keys already in hand.

Carefully, the three broke the news to Nero, the man himself all but teleporting to the car and demanding to drive. Nico had forcefully shoved Nero into the back, Credo there to make sure he didn't try to climb through the middle.

It was chaos when they arrived – survivors and police everywhere, medics running from room to room, and not a single person free to answer Nero's frantic questions as to V's whereabouts. Kyrie finally managed to gather his location, leading Nero further into the hospital and into a private room. V wasn't there yet, apparently he had needed surgery, but this is where he would be brought back to.

Nero waited on the edge of his seat, listening to the squeaking wheels of the beds, as they passed by the room. He waited until finally, the bed stopped before the door, and V was wheeled in. He was wrapped in bandages from head to toe it seemed, but the steady rise and fall of his chest reassured Nero that he still lived.

They left V alone then, Nero shuffling closer to lay a careful hand upon V's. Sobs tore from his throat, the relief that V was alive finally setting in. Nero didn't know how long he cried for, but when he finally felt wrung dry, he noticed the gentle fingers carding through his hair. With a little cry, Nero's head shot up, eyes meeting V's own hazy green orbs.

“Hey,” V croaked. “Missed you.”

“V, baby. Don't ever do that to me again. I can't lose you. Not like that, not ever.”

“Hmmm, I'll try not to.” V replied drowsily, drifting off to sleep before he even finished his sentence.

Nero clung to him until he woke again later, scared that this was a dream, and that V had never been found after the explosion. When V was better, Nero was going to hunt down whoever had caused that explosion, and he was going to make them pay.


	3. Delirium

“Don't leave me Nero, please. I didn't mean to do this, didn't mean to lie about who I was. Please believe me.” V begged desperately, clutching at Nero's sleeve as he tried to pull away.

“V, baby please. It's ok, I'm not leaving you.” Nero tried to reassure his fevered lover. “You have never lied about who you are, and I will always believe you. But you have to let me go so that I can get you into bed.”

V obviously not believing what Nero said, curled into himself, sobs wracking his frail body. Nero gathered him up into his arms, and carried him over to their bed. He laid the trembling and crying V down, combing back the sweaty black strands of hair off of his forehead. V continued to sob, begging for forgiveness, and pleading for Nero to stay. Unable to think of what else to do, Nero called his father in a panic, and then lay down beside V.

V's pleas died down a little as Nero curled around him, breaths stuttering in his chest. His glazed eyes roamed the room, unable to remember where he was, or how he had gotten here. Hadn't V been with Nero and Dante on their way to kill a King? Where was Dante now? Was he dead? Had V gotten him killed? Another sob caught in V's throat at the thought; he had liked the older man, even if he was infuriating beyond belief at times.

The sound of a door opening drew V's attention, and when he saw the person standing before him he screamed. He flung himself from the bed, grabbing at the first thing he could find that would serve as a weapon, and pointed it at the approaching figure.

“NO! I will not go back! I'd rather die that go back to that hell! Stay away from me demon!” The cane that V held, shook within his weakened hold, even as he tried to defend himself from the imagined attack.

Nero had jolted upwards as V threw himself from the bed, sitting and staring in dumbfounded shock as V grabbed up a cane and aimed it at his father. And the words he spat at the older man....Nero could not even fathom where V had come up with them.

Vergil stared at his son's lover with pain in his eyes. He knew that V wasn't in his right mind right now, the fever having taken a vicious hold on him, but still the words stung none the less. And it hit even closer for Vergil, as he had acted much like a demon when their relationship had first come to light. Vergil had not been pleased that Nero was with another man, and so had done nearly everything within his power to drive V off. Eventually he could see just how much the two men loved one another, and had ceased his attack. But he knew that he had hurt both men deeply; but until now, he hadn't realised that the scars had yet to fully heal.

Vergil retreated from the room, and Nero after a brief hesitation, followed after him. He didn't want to leave V, but he needed to know how to help him. And as a doctor, Vergil would be able to help him care for his lover. Nero could feel his heart clench, as V screamed and cried as Nero left him alone and followed the older man, winced as he heard the other fall to the ground.

“Nero, please come back! Don't follow the demon, he'll only take you from me again. I can't lose you again Nero. NERO!”

Tears filling his eyes, Nero turned to his father and asked for help desperately. Vergil wasted no time in handing over medicine and advice for his son, V's cries breaking even his own heart. As quickly as possible, Nero flew back into the room. He gathered V's limp form up from where he had fallen, placing him back in the bed. He grabbed the medicine that he needed, carefully pouring out the required dose into a cup.

V watched Nero warily, not sure if he could trust him anymore, not after he had left with the demon. Not after he returned with this suspicious liquid he was trying to make him drink. The first lot, V swatted aside, his fear overtaking him and causing him to lash out. Nero merely measured another dose, patiently telling V that it was to help him. V stared into Nero's honest blue eyes, trying to find a hint of deception there, but could find nothing.

With a stifled sob, he took the glass and drank the liquid; sure that he would start to disappear within moments of swallowing. In the end, V could deny Nero nothing, even if it meant his own demise. Blackness started to overtake his vision, and V knew that this was it – this was his end. At least it had been Nero to end him, and not that other demon. At least this way, Nero would be the last thing he saw before he left this world.

“Thank you Nero, for being the one to end this. I love you, more than anything else in this world.”

Nero watched as V's eyes slowly drifted closed, and heaved a sigh of relief as the medicine and sleeping draught quickly got to work. He rose from the side of the bed, cleaning up the mess V had made of the first dose of medicine, and then wiped V's sweaty body down with cool cloths. Pressing his forehead against V's own, Nero felt relief start to fill him as he felt a noticeable drop in V's temperature.

Tasks completed, Nero once more curled up under the covers, and held V tightly to his chest. He should have realised just how sick V was, but he had forgotten just how stubborn the other man could be regarding his own health. Next time, Nero would make sure that V didn't push himself so far, that he ended up with a fever and lost in delirium again. Nero wasn't sure his heart could take another round of those heart wrenching pleas.


	4. Human Shield #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So er.... I ended up writing two fics for this prompt, and I couldn't work out which one I liked better, so you're getting them both :)

Nero wondered just how things had turned out like this. One moment he had been enjoying a date with V, and the next, they were in the middle of a huge fight between rival gangs.

Nero had been so excited for this night, after many months of planning and mentally preparing himself, he had finally worked up the nerve to ask V out. What he hadn't realised, was that V had been eagerly waiting for him to ask, so there had never been any fear of rejection.

Everything had started out fine, Nero had picked V up and taken him out to dinner. The restaurant had been nice, though not over the top, and both men had shared conversation and food. Next Nero had asked V to take a walk through the darkened markets with him, not wanting their time together to end. This had been their first mistake.

Their second mistake was not noticing the men and women amassing around them, the menacing click of guns cocking and _shing _of metal being unsheathed surrounding them. By the time V had noticed the light reflecting off of one of the weapons, it had been far too late to retreat.

The leader of one of the groups had stepped forwards then, appearing so close to the pair, that Nero didn't even have a chance to react before V was torn from his hold. The other man stared defiantly into the cold eyes of the leader, chin held tightly within his grasp. A dark chuckle filled the air then, and the leader pulled V closer.

“Oh yes, I do like this one.” He mocked.

Before he could comment further, a single gun shot rang out, bullet burying itself in the wall near them. Looking up, the leader of the group seemed unsurprised to see his rival flanked by his own men, standing at the other end of the marketplace. Weapons were held at the ready on both sides, the first man holding V's frozen body before him, like a parody of a shield made of human flesh.

“Well well Dante. So we meet again.” He mocked, bringing a knife up causally towards V's neck.

Nero stood frozen between the groups, part of neither, but unable and unwilling to leave without V. Dante looked towards him in question, wondering just where these two kids fit in. Nero's helpless look answered all of his questions – they didn't fit in, they were just extremely unlucky enough to have wandered into Vergil's territory.

“Let the kid go Verg. They've got nothing to do with this fight between us.” Dante lifted his arm, ivory gun aimed towards Vergil.

Dante may be a gang leader, but unlike Vergil, he didn't enjoy killing innocents. If he could just get Vergil to let the kid go, then there was a chance they could escape unscathed.

“And why would I do that Dante?” Vergil asked mockingly. “You would not dare fire upon me with this _innocent_ shielding me now would you?”

V shook within Vergil's hold, the steel of the knife close enough to feel each time he swallowed. He could not see the look upon Vergil's face, but he was able to see the confliction within Dante's eyes; could see the absolute terror within Nero's eyes. He wished that he had been stronger, or faster; that he could have prevented Vergil from grabbing at him. But wishes were futile, and now he could only hope that he could survive this.

Dante watched as the man being used to shield Vergil resigned himself. He could see the stark line of red that appeared upon his throat, Vergil's blade digging in deeper the more agitated he became. He could also see the other kid, presumably the boyfriend, looking ready to do something stupid. And Dante knew that if that happened, their chances of survival would be reduced to almost nothing. So it was up to Dante to end this, and now.

Staring into accepting green eyes, Dante took aim and fired.

Just before the shot hit, those green eyes connected with Nero's own horrified blue, before blood filled his vision as his face was splattered with blood. The grip around his body, and the knife at his throat, slackened, leaving V to collapse forwards on trembling knees. Nero raced forwards, pulling the other man into his arms, and away from the twitching body lying beside V.

Rocking themselves together back and forwards, Nero and V almost missed Dante stepping past them towards Vergil's body. They watched as he stood over the downed man, a look of sadness and regret painting his features. Closing his eyes briefly, Dante turned towards the two civilians in the middle of the two gangs.

“You'd best head off now boys, before the cops show up. We'll deal with everything here.”

“Yes,” Nero whispered, still shaking at how close they had come to death that night.

“Oh,” Dante called out to them just as the reached the end of the market. “Don't go wandering through any more dark, deserted places yeah?”


	5. Human Shield #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second fic for this prompt :)

The demons that they were fighting just kept coming. No matter how many they took out, they just kept coming in an endless wave, and they were tiring quickly. They had been fighting all day, and had been hoping to return home for a well deserved rest, before they had been ambushed not three blocks from their home.

It had been frustrating to be so close, and yet so far from safety, but both men couldn't help but be thankful that at least their home and those in it, would remain safe from harm.

V's familiars where still going strong, though Nero could tell that V himself was starting to wilt, his orders just that bit softer, his movements minutely slower. He knew though, that if he told V to sit this one out, that the other man would merely scoff at him, and ignore his advice – and honestly, Nero himself was starting to flag also, and didn't know if he could continue this fight alone.

So they continued to fight, with no end in sight. Nero had long put in a call for back up, but the older pair of hunters had been on the other side of town, and still a fair ways off. Things started to go wrong as soon as V summoned Nightmare, the fragile man stumbling as soon as he had evoked the golem; Shadow rushing to his side protectively.

By the time Nightmare dissolved back into V's tattoos, the dark haired man was hunched on hands and knees panting. Griffon and Shadow tried their best to protect him, but several heavy hits sent them both into stasis, leaving V unprotected and unable to defend himself.

A huge demon had spotted the downed V, and decided that he looked like a better target than the one still flailing it's sword around. With a low grumble, it turned and headed towards him. Looking towards where the demon was heading towards, Nero felt the blood freeze within his veins as he spotted V. There were too many enemies between Nero and V, and he knew that he would never make it in time.

With a cry of dismay, Nero tried shooting out his grappling hook, praying that it managed to grasp onto something, anything, to pull him into the air. He let out a cry of triumph as he shot into the air, turning instantly to shoot another hook towards the ground beside V. Zipping towards the other man, Nero passed by the demon and curled protectively like a shield over V's vulnerable form.

V looked up with a startled cry as Nero protected him, watching in horror as his blue eyes filled with pain as he was struck again and again by the demon. Blood started to drip from Nero's mouth, oozing out between his clenched teeth. V reached up with shaking hands, trying to brush away the crimson liquid, holding Nero's face gently.

Finally Shadow broke free from his stasis, and V wasted no time in shouting out hoarse instructions to him to attack the demon before them. Huge spikes of inky darkness pierced the demon, his attacks upon Nero faltering, before finally ceasing altogether.

Nero collapsed then, body falling heavily upon V's own. V yelped as he was suddenly pinned beneath Nero's weight, unable to lift the heavier man off of himself. He just prayed that Shadow and Griffon too, if he had broken free, would be able to protect them until help arrived. Even passed out as he was, V noticed that Nero had curled protectively around V as though trying to shield him from any potential damage he might possibly suffer.

The shouts of Dante and Vergil reached his ears finally, and V sagged in relief. They were safe now, not that V had ever felt in danger. Not with Nero acting like a shield against all that would do him harm.


	6. Gunpoint

V had known that their families had forever been at war with each other. Had known that the Spardas held nothing but disdain for his own family, but he had thought that Nero had been different.

How wrong he had been.

V's heart bled at the knowledge, all of his hopes and dreams crushed with those fateful words. V had thought that Nero had been above such things as family grudges, the reasons of which could no longer even be remembered. He could remember conversations had with the man, late at night as they lay tangled in the sheets, about the futility of continuing to fight for no reason.

But a few simple words had brought V's world crashing down. They had been out together in a rare opportunity to get away from their families, when someone had recognised V. He had never hidden who he was, hadn't thought that he had needed to, but Nero had obviously not put two and two together, and had been shocked at the revelation. The knowledge that he had not only been spending time with, but also sleeping with an enemy of his family, felt like a betrayal of himself; and Nero was furious.

He had knocked V out, the other man having put up no resistance whatsoever, and had blindfolded him and dragged him to the family home. There he had thrown him in the cells, chaining his hands to the walls, and leaving him there. With a heavy heart, Nero had reported to his father, letting him know what had happened.

In the meeting that followed, Dante and Vergil tried to work out the angle that V had been working. Had he been trying to get inside information on them? Was he trying to kidnap Nero perhaps to ransom back to them?

Nero had shook his head when he was asked if V had ever questioned him about the family; they hadn't really spoken much about their families, though Nero knew that V had felt trapped and stifled within his own. Perhaps V had been using Nero to try to escape from them? But whatever his motives, V had obviously known who Nero was, and had been using him.

Nero let V remain untended in the cells for two days, before he finally headed back down there. He stared in confliction, at the man who rested uneasily up against the wall, arms chained above his head and offering no comfort for the weary. V's hair hung limply around his wan face, dark circles lined his dulled eyes as he stared blankly at Nero.

Nero nearly flinched back at the dead look within his lover's eyes. No not his lover. His enemy's. V was his enemy, nothing more, nothing less. Drawing Blue Rose from his holster, Nero entered the cell, pointing the weapon at the other man.

“What are you here for?” Nero ground out, hand shaking slightly.

“You brought me here,” V replied dully, eyes staring past Nero now, out towards the darkened night sky.

Stepping forwards, Nero slapped V across the face with his free hand, hard enough to turn the other man's head to the side. V didn't even bother to turn his head back, instead staring at the stone wall beside him.

“Tell me the truth!” Nero screamed.

“Whose truth?” V asked softly, confusing Nero. “Yours or mine?”

“The real truth dammit!” Nero exclaimed. “What did you hope to gain by tricking me?”

“Tricking you?” V laughed bitterly. “I tricked no one. You just did not want to see what was before you. I have been honest our entire time together, which is much more than I can say for you.”

Nero felt rage boil within his veins. He had been honest too! He had never lied to the other man, never hidden who he was. Not like V. He said as much, only for V to laugh coldly at him.

“You said that there was no reason for our families to fight, could not be bothered with this entire war. But as soon as you are faced with your so called enemy, you turned on me faster than I could draw breath. You care more for your family's image than you ever did for me.”

Nero was speechless. He _had_ said those things to V, had spoken with the other man after long nights spent together, about how stupid the war was. But that was before he knew who he was talking to! Before V had wormed his way into his life to try to trick him!

V stared back at Nero, as though guessing at his thoughts, a sardonic laugh falling from his lips.

“And that is your truth.”

The gun shook in Nero's hold as he stepped closer to V. He pressed the cold metal against V's head, digging it in harder to try to pull a reaction from the other man. Instead of the resistance that he had expected, Nero was startled when V's chained hands reached out and wrapped around his own, holding the gun in place.

“Do it then. End this now, and free yourself if that's what you desire.” V taunted.

Nero struggled with his feelings, knowing deep down that V had not tricked him, had not lied to him; that it was only his wounded pride that was thinking such things. He didn't want to shoot the other man, didn't want to end his life. But V wasn't letting go of his hands, even as he tried to pull the gun away.

“I can't.” Nero panted, tugging at his hands. “Please V, let go.”

“I'm sorry Nero, but this is how this ends.” V offered a last sad smile to Nero, before squeezing the trigger.

The sharp sound of gunfire brought the guards running; the men finding their leader's son knelt upon the ground, blood splattered across his tear filled face, cradling the lifeless form of the son of their enemy. Sobs tore from Nero's throat harshly as he held V's limp body in his arms, and he vowed that he would end this war – just like he had promised V he wanted to do. He would end this war, and then he would follow after V. He owed the other man an apology after all.


	7. Dragged Away

When Nero was five, he had stumbled across a tiny boy in the forest, who looked half starved and definitely was without the protection of a family. He had taken him home, not noticing how the boy had stiffened as he recognised the crests upon the enormous double doors.

Later, later Nero would discover that V had thought that Nero was taking him home to eat him, but had followed regardless. V had all but lost hope by that time, his family having been killed by hunters and it was only his mother's quick thinking that had saved V's life. He had often wished that he had not been saved, that he too had died that day along with his family, though after meeting Nero, those thoughts occurred less often.

But Nero didn't know that, not yet – not for a long time. He wouldn't find out any of that until they were much older, until they realised just how forbidden their association was. Nero was a vampire, the son of one of the leaders of the oldest, most powerful clans. And V, he was a witch. Hated and reviled by vampires for their ability to negate their gifts and resist their charms. But V had never been like that, had in fact never been taught any of the things young witches leant at their mother's knee.

Sure he had magic, but it was only what he had taught himself; Nero smuggling books to the other boy to help him learn. V had looked at him with such joy the first time that Nero had handed him a book, that Nero had fallen in love instantly as children do.

They had not known that they should not be friends, should not fall in love, but some part of them had known to hide their association from Nero's family. Their time together was stolen moments, when Nero could sneak away from the watchful eyes of his guardian – his father being much too busy to be expected to watch over his young son.

One of their favourite things do do, was to sneak out under the cover of darkness to spend time star gazing together, to huddle close beneath warm blankets and share innocent kisses, and later as they grew older, less innocent touches.

Nero had realised as he grew older, that he had not fallen in love with V as a man that day long ago, but as a child. But now as they got to know each other better, as they grew older and explored the world and each other's bodies, his feelings had changed. He couldn't say whether or not he was _in love_ with V, though he certainly loved the other boy.

Nero was feeling a little nervous this night. V had asked Nero tentatively if he would be his first, and although it had taken Nero a few minutes to work out what V had meant, he had eagerly agreed once he realised. They were going to meet in the forest and head to V's tiny house; something that both boys had clumsily built together when they were younger – now held together only by the power of V's magic. He could have rebuilt himself something much more comfortable now that he had spells at his fingertips, but V had not wished to lose the memories.

When Nero arrived at V's dwelling, he walked in to see the other boy already waiting for him. Their nervousness soon faded away, as their hands roamed and their passion rose. Their first time together was not perfect; tears were spilled as pain overtook the pleasure, and neither boy could hope to last long, but that did not deter them from trying again.

So lost to their pleasure, neither boy noticed the hate filled eyes watching them from the window. They didn't see that same person sprint back to the clan house, and breathlessly inform the leader. They didn't see his face twist in revulsion, and blame be placed upon the witch for bewitching his son. They knew nothing of the plan to eliminate the threat, and free Nero from his thrall.

Nero snuck back into the house in the early hours of the morning, having slipped from the warm bed, leaving V to his peaceful slumber. He had hoped that returning at such an hour would prevent him from running into anyone, but had been shocked as he turned from closing the front door gently, to be met not only with his Uncle, but his father also. Both men stared down at Nero in disappointment, disgust lingering within his father's eyes.

“Nero.” His father intoned seriously. “You have shamed the family by falling under the thrall of a witch, and shall be cleansed of the taint.”

Nero tried to open his mouth to protest, to argue that V would never do such a thing, and that he was under no one's thrall, but Vergil slashed his hand through the air harshly.

“Enough! Before your own cleansing, you shall join us to witness the demise of the heathen.”

Nero's mouth opened and closed silently, not knowing what his father meant, but feeling dread pool in his stomach. A firm grip upon Nero's arm dragged him back out the door, heartbreakingly familiar cries finally reaching his ears.

There in the courtyard, stood V, bloodied, bruised and blindfolded, body tied viciously to a wooden pole. The vampires surrounding him jeered and mocked him. Threw rocks and rotten food at him. Nero tried to run to him, tried to call out to him to protect him, but he was dragged back by the grip on his arm.

Vergil held back his struggling son firmly, eyes cold and hard as they stared down at his pleading stare.

“Please father, he is innocent. I'm not under his thrall, he doesn't know how to use it! Please....I love him.” Nero begged, tugging at his arm.

Vergil's eyes hardened further at Nero's words, hatred burning in his mind for the witch that had tricked his son. He did not say a thing to Nero, but his immoveable stare was answer enough.

“V! V!” Nero cried out, straining against the hold.

V raised his head quickly, turning it side to side to try to locate Nero. “Nero?” A rock hit his face then, causing a small cry of shock to leave his mouth.

V stilled as he heard the crackling of fire approach, fear filling him. Nero's cries still filled his ears, but V could only focus on the heat that crept closer with each moment.

“Witch,” Vergil's voice rang out, silencing the gathered crowd. “You have bewitched my heir, and your punishment is death. Have you anything to say for yourself?”

“Nothing, besides that I love him with all of my being.”

Vergil let loose a snarl, disbelief filling him that the witch would lie so blatantly to his face, and threw down the flaming torch upon the sticks surrounding V. Nero tried again to go to him, but he felt Dante's iron arms clamp around his waist, dragging him away. Once the witch was gone, Nero would return to his right mind, but until then, they would have to restrain him.

V could feel the heat of the flames licking at him, quickly consuming all in it's path. He screamed as his body started to burn, his eyes filling with tears as he writhed in pain. He thought he could hear shouts from others, but his own screams were all that he could hear as the fire consumed him. The flames had reached his chest now, the ropes being burnt away, but V had no strength left to flee. His hair started to burn, the flames racing up the dark strands, and V fell into death's warm embrace. He smiled painfully as darkness pulled him under, thinking that this warmth felt just like Nero's.

Vergil screamed as Dante lost his hold on Nero, his young son avoiding any grasping hands, and racing towards the flaming pyre. His clan screamed with him as Nero pushed through the flames, to hold the burning witch within. They could see the smile upon the witch's face; could see the answering smile upon Nero's, and regret filled them.

Thunder boomed across the sky then, a deluge of rain starting to fall and dousing the flames. The vampires stood in shock, staring at the sight before them. Even in death, the two boys held each other, their charred bodies lying close together.

Vergil felt as though his heart had been torn from his body, watching as his only son threw himself to his death for his beloved. With a heavy heart, he turned away from their bodies, and slowly made his way back inside. Although he knew it would make no difference now, Vergil vowed to make sure that their bodies were buried together, so that even in death, they would not be separated.


	8. Isolation

V was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of struggling. He had been alive for the short period of a month, and yet he was ready for his life to end. Each day had been harder than the last, but finally V could see the end in sight. Finally he could rest, be absorbed back into his whole, and be taken back into the blissful oblivion of non-existence.

Dante and Nero watched V make his slow way upon the prone form of Urizen, and they wondered why he wore a smile upon his face. Perhaps he was just that happy to be able to finally end this fight, or maybe he liked the thought of the the weak overthrowing the strong, though V had never showed any signs of this before. Still neither man knew the reasons why, but they found it strange all the same.

V raised his cane in the air, poised to slam into Urizen's chest, when he heard the rapidly approaching footsteps. With no further hesitation – V could not allow himself to be stopped, not here, not now – he plunged the tip through the giant eye before him. Light surrounded V then, before he let himself fall into blissful darkness; and then he knew no more.

V came to awareness slowly, mind confused and disorientated. What...what was going on? Why was he still aware? Had he not suffered enough? Had V not done what he was supposed to do and join himself back together with Urizen? Why had he been punished with his continued existence?

Resigned to his fate, V took in his surroundings. There....was nothing. Just plain white nothingness as far as his eyes could see. Trying to call up his familiars, V started to feel the first stirrings of panic fill him as they did not appear. He tried again, and again; over and over and not a single feather or hair appeared before him.

Desperately, V tried to contact his other half. Even being trapped here within Vergil's mind with Urizen was better than nothing. But still, there was no answer from the demon. As a last resort, V tried calling upon Vergil, hoping that the other man could still hear him.

“Vergil? Vergil! Are you there?” V cried out. “Answer me please!”

But Vergil either could not hear him, or was ignoring him again. It amounted to the same thing either way – V was alone within Vergil's mind. Isolated from everything and everyone he had ever known; trapped with no way out.

V screamed. Screamed until his voice gave out. He screamed until his vocal cords felt like they were stripped raw and bloody. And then he screamed some more, something, anything to break the absolute silence that closed in on him every moment of his miserable existence.

He clawed at his arms and his face, pulled at his hair, just to be able to feel; to know that he was real still. Some times he thought that he could see his friends and companions beside him, but whenever he turned, they would vanish once more. Each moment trapped alone there was torture. And V quietly lost his mind, madness taking over, until there was nothing left but the shell of a once proud man, trapped within the isolation of his own mind.


	9. Stab Wound

Tears fell down Nero's face as he clutched V's limp body to his chest. Blood continued to seep slowly from the stab wound that he had given the other man, their hands stained with the vermilion liquid.

Even worse than the fact that V was bleeding out in his arms; was the smile upon the other man's face. It was full of love and peace and forgiveness; full of all of the words he wished that he could say, but no longer had the strength to utter. But Nero knew what he would be saying if he could.

'_It's not your fault. I forgive you. Thank you Nero.'_

Nero bowed his head, forehead resting against V's shoulder; trying to hide from the world. He had convinced himself that he could, _would_, save V, but in the end he had been wrong. In the end, V had begged for death, for Nero to end his torment, and Nero could deny V nothing. Not when he pleaded with him with so much pain and suffering in his eyes.

It had all started a few months ago. Nero had noticed that something was off about V, but had simply put it all down to stress. Exams had been a bitch to study for, and V had taken double the courses that Nero had that year. But exam season had come and gone, and still V was acting strange. It had taken a trip home to visit his family to reveal the heartbreaking truth.

V had been possessed by an elder demon, and it was hell bent on using his body as a vessel. Nero had been devastated to learn the truth, and neither Dante nor Vergil could tell him if V were still in there with the demon, or if it had killed him as it forced it's way inside of him.

It had been Dante who had brought up the possibility to Nero when he had come to them after V's behaviour had not improved. He had been scared that V had been losing interest in their relationship, only for a much worse outcome to be presented. When Nero had asked why V would have been possessed, him not being nearly as strong nor as healthy as Nero, Vergil had sombrely informed Nero that their family could not be possessed owing to the demon blood they already carried. Nero had felt his heart shatter when Vergil had mentioned that the demon had probably been drawn to V because of Nero's own power.

Heading home that night with a heavy heart, and a charmed necklace, Nero had prayed that V would be back to normal and none of this would be necessary. But V was not back to normal. He was standing in the middle of their living area, staring blankly at the wall before him. Something dark was splattered across his clothing, and Nero could not bring himself to look closer at what it might be.

“He...hey V.” Nero greeted his boyfriend nervously.

V did not answer though, his body twitching madly. Nero cautiously approached him, necklace held within his trembling hands.

“I got you a little trinket baby. I thought you might like it.” Nero stood before V, watching as his eyes stared dully forwards. “Here, let me help you put it on.”

Nero lifted the chain, lowering it carefully over V's head, and watched in horror as the pendant glowed an eerie yellow. Immediately V's eyes bled red and a his sticky hand raised to clutch at Nero's throat with more strength than should be possible. Nero clutched at the hand holding him, gasping for breath.

“V?” Nero struggled.

“I'm sorry, V's not here at the moment. But feel free to leave a message, and he'll get back to you NEVER!”

The voice forcing itself from V's mouth was grating and wrong. Nothing like V's normally deep, musical voice.

“Le..let V go!” Nero demanded, finally managing to tear himself free from the demon's hold. Hand raising to touch his own throat, Nero was horrified to realise that it was now coated in blood. Eyes flashing down to V's hands, Nero realised that they were coated in the crimson liquid.

“What have you done?” He breathed out in fear.

The demon grinned at him, mouth stretching out in an unnatural smile, teeth on full display. “I merely went out to....play with some others. It was oh so much _fun_!”

“V! V if you are still in there please! You have to fight it! We'll help you, just please, please V.” Nero begged, sending the predetermined message to Dante and Vergil.

They had planned for the worst, Vergil having insisted on Nero having a back up plan if it ended up being the worst case scenario. So now, Nero just had to wait, had to stall the demon and keep V alive until help arrived.

But it seemed as though the demon had no interest in staying locked up in their house with Nero, and quickly tried walking to the door. Nero blocked his path, hands held before him to ward the demon away. He stared at Nero assessingly, eyes suddenly filling with mirth. Nero was taken aback at the look, and became even more confused as the demon retreated.

It was only when he heard the opening of a drawer, that Nero started to panic. The quiet schik of a knife being withdrawn, had Nero racing towards the kitchen, terrified of what the demon might be planning. Nero skidded to a halt as he caught sight of V, knife held against his own neck.

“V? Put the knife down baby.” Nero pleaded.

Unpleasant laughter filled the space between them, the demon pressing the blade in closer, drawing a thin line of blood upon V's pale neck.

“It wouldn't take much to end this mortal; though that would end my fun prematurely also.” The demon hummed as though thinking. “It might be worth it though, to see the pain and agony it would cause you. Choices, choices.”

The demon's eyes seemed to squint as he contemplated his choice, and Nero took the opportunity to lunge forwards to try to wrest the knife away from him. The demon struggled against Nero, managing to slash him shallowly across his cheek, before Nero was able to make him drop the knife. It took nearly all of Nero's strength to pin V to the ground, his demonic blood coming to the fore to help him. Although V had been possessed and had gained a lot of extra strength, there was only so much the demon could do with his normally waif like body.

V surfaced then, eyes changing back to his normal green; tears running down his face. His lips trembled as he tried to speak, the effort nearly more than he could endure.

“Nero....please. Don't let me, don't let him do this. Please get rid of him for me.”

Nero sobbed, forehead falling to rest upon V's chest, hold never loosening upon the other man. “I don't know how to V. Dad and Dante will be here soon, and they'll help. You just have to hold on until then.”

V's eyes closed in defeat. “I don't think I can hold on any longer Nero.” V's eyes flashed red for an instant, before the green overtook it once more. Nero could see just how much it had cost V to keep control over his body – his whole frame shook, and he panted harshly for breath.

“You know what to do Nero. Please. Don't let me do this....”

V's voice faded away as Nero's tears landed upon his upturned face, his features once more warping into the parody of humanity that the demon wore. The struggling started up again, and Nero knew that he would not be able keep this up for much longer. Even though Nero was stronger, he was bound to slip up eventually, and that would be all the opening the demon would need to escape.

With a stifled sob, Nero punched the demon in the face, stunning it temporarily, before he reached out to grasp a hold of the previously dropped knife. The demon growled as it came back to it's senses, but by that time Nero had the knife pressed against V's chest. The demon stilled in shock, as though unsure if Nero could actually go through with the action, mouth opening to taunt him, before Nero squeezed his eyes closed, and plunged the knife in deeply.

Sobs escaped Nero as he felt the blade pass through V's flesh, coming harder after he felt trembling hands pressing against his own to press the blade deeper. Nero could hear V's gasping breaths, could feel the way his body writhed and convulsed beneath his own – a mockery of their most intimate moments spent together.

His eyes finally cracked open, the dull pendant still draped over V's neck, lay cracked and broken, no longer glowing. The demon was gone, having abandoned his vessel, and V was left broken and dying on their kitchen floor. Nero carefully gathered his body up in his arms, V making little noises of distress as he was moved. Their tears fell to mix with the ever growing pool of blood upon the floor, their eyes meeting and holding each other's. Blood dripped from V's mouth, and Nero reached out to wipe it away; instead leaving a macabre trail of crimson along his cheek.

In V's eyes, Nero could see everything that he wanted to say, and he only hoped that his own eyes portrayed his own feelings of love and sorrow; his words sticking in his throat as his panic overwhelmed him. Nero held V to his chest tightly, rocking the other man gently as though to soothe him, hand carefully cupping his ashen face in his bloody hand.

“Everything is going to be ok V. Dad will be here soon and he'll know what to do ok? Everything....everything's going to be fine and we'll make stupid jokes about it one day.” Nero's voice faltered, his tears choking him as he spoke to V.

So focused upon pretending that things would be fine, Nero didn't even realise when V's stuttered breaths finally stilled. Didn't realise his body grew colder within his own warm embrace, that the feeble grip V had kept upon his arm had fallen away.

Dante and Vergil burst into the house, Nero's screams filling their ears.


	10. Shackled

Nero raced through the forest, barking happily at the man speeding along beside him; the shadows beneath the other's feet helping him to keep up with Nero's galloping steps. The full moon above them shone down upon their racing forms, as they took advantage of the deserted forest to run and play.

It had been two years since Nero had become infected with the werewolf virus, a hunt having gone wrong and leaving him with the affliction. He'd been terrified of V finding out, avoiding his lover for months on end until finally V had tracked him down and confronted him.

“Did you want to break up?” V had demanded, voice trembling, though standing firm before Nero. “Is that why you are avoiding me? Can you not just say the words to my face?!”

Nero had been shocked at V's shouted words, he hadn't realised that he had left V with that many insecurities regarding their relationship due to his life as a hunter. He vowed to himself, that if V did not turn and run from him after finding out the truth, Nero was going to do everything in his power to alleviate his fears.

“NO! No, that's not what this is V, I swear it!” Nero shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It's...I...shit!”

Nero raked his hands through his hair, tugging harshly at the short, silvery strands. He wasn't sure if he could do this, if he could tell V that he now had a bit of a furry problem, and risk losing him. But Nero also had a feeling that if he didn't tell V the truth now, he would lose him anyway.

“Look, it's a full moon tonight right?” Nero asked, confusing V. He nodded regardless, staring at Nero with suspicious eyes.

“Yes?”

“Come to the forest just before sundown, and I'll show you ok? Just...promise you won't freak out on me.”

V had met him at the forest that night – had watched silently as Nero had waited for the moon to rise before changing into a huge wolf. Nero had stared with his big blue eyes at V, half expecting screaming and running, but was met by a half smile instead.

“Is that all Nero?” V asked with amusement. “These sort of things don't bother me at all, and you are no where near the most dangerous creature I've encountered before.”

Ah that was right. Nero always tended to forget that V was a hunter and witch in his own right. Before they had gotten together, V had roamed the world subduing creatures, and binding them in contracts as familiars. With a little yip of joy, Nero had barrelled into V, licking him with enthusiasm.

“Ok, we're going to have to talk about your impulse control...” V muttered to himself.

After that, V would help spend the full moon with Nero. His presence always helping to tame the wilder impulses that sometimes tried to take hold of him. There had been a few near misses at the beginning, Nero's wolf not ready to trust itself to V's care. Now, now though, Nero's wolf would gladly lay down his life for his witchy companion.

However that night, things would change. Hunters had gotten wind of a rouge were skulking in the forest near the town, and worried that it might decide to attack the towns folk, they had set out to trap and kill it.

Neither V nor Nero knew of these plans, their contacts in the hunter community having not been informed of the hunt, even though they were technically trespassing upon other hunter's territory. They reasoned with themselves that it would be fine, as the current hunters in the area were obviously not doing a very good job if the were was still wandering freely.

Nero leapt playfully over tree stumps and rocks, gambolling happily around V's feet. The sound of rustling leaves caught his attention, and thinking it was game, Nero lowered his chest to the ground with his tail wagging happily in the air. A playful growl escaped him, V chuckling at his antics from beside him.

Their playful cavorting came to an abrupt ending, when a shrill whistle pierced the air, a net made of silver falling from the sky to fall on top of Nero. He howled in pain as the strands laid against his pelt, eyes rolling in terror at the sight of the approaching figures. V was grabbed from behind, his legs kicked out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground. One of the hunters pulled a pair of iron cuffs from his belt and shackled V's hands behind him, preventing him from using his magic.

Nero snarled as one of the hunters wrestled to fit a muzzle over his snout, claws scrabbling at the ground frantically. Nero could understand the hunters coming after him, but he just couldn't work out why they were restraining V also. The sound of a gun cocking made Nero still, breath freezing in his lungs as he stared down the barrel into cold, furious eyes.

“No!” V cried out, struggling against his restraints. “Please he's not dangerous!”

He cried out again as he was shoved back, the remaining hunters staring down at him.

“What do we do with this 'un?” One woman asked. “'S a witch, and we dun hunt witches anymore. Unfortunately.”

“Better get rid of him too.” The leader spoke gruffly. “Looks like it might be compromised.”

Grunts of assent followed his statement, and one of them stepped up behind V, knife held in his hand. Nero struggled furiously – the net burning his flesh as it slipped slightly from his body – trying to reach V, to rescue him. It was his fault, it was all his fault. If Nero hadn't dragged V out here to play, if only Nero had never been bitten!

Shouts of alarm rang out as the net slipped far enough off of Nero to allow him to wriggle free. Clawing the muzzle from his face, Nero leapt at the man holding V, jaws snapping closed on his shirt. There was no way Nero was going to condemn someone else to this life, but he would not allow them to hurt V either. His eyes flaring with anger, Nero knew that if they did not release V soon, he would kill them. There would be no biting them and turning them; the only options he was willing to consider were they left here alive, or they did not leave at all.

The knife dropped from the man's hand, and he scrambled back on hands and feet. Several others – including the leader – dropped their guard and rushed to him, pulling at his clothing to make sure Nero had not drawn blood. Seeing the unblemished skin of his arm, they all breathed out sighs of relief.

Nero had taken their distraction and sidled up to V at that moment, claws trying to pry open the cuffs holding V's magic back. The metal may have been strong, but there was not a lot, besides silver, that could withstand the force of a were bite. One cuff shattered, and V managed to pull enough magic to the surface to unlock the other. As soon as he was freed, V called up his familiars, facing off against the hunters who stood terrified before them.

Now that they had lost the element of surprise, fighting a fully grown witch and a were would be suicide.

“Leave this place.” V growled angrily, rage growing as he took in Nero's bloodied and burn form. “Do not return, because if you do, I will not hold back in dealing with you.”

The hunters trembled before them – V surrounded by his familiars and a dark brooding aura, and Nero, even injured, was still a sight to behold. His head was level with V's chest, and his eyes glowed with retribution, teeth gleaming in the dim moonlight, a warning not to test him further.

As one, the hunters agreed to leave, turning to flee. With their backs turned, they did not see the spell V sent at them, the dark cloud surrounding the group. When it dispersed, they had disappeared, and Nero cocked his head at V in question.

“I sent them back to town, and erased their memories of our encounter and any information they had on us.”

Nero snorted in laughter, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he turned to trot off again, body protesting slightly. A glow of green healing light surrounded him as he moved, and he turned to watch V pass him with hands still aglow with magic, gliding along the forest floor once more. Nero stared as V moved ahead of him, thankful every day that he had met the other man, and that he had stayed by his side through everything that had happened. A questioning call of his name broke Nero from his contemplation, and with a happy howl, he bounded forwards to catch up to V.


	11. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connected to 'Explosion'

Nero sat beside V's beside, hand gripping tightly at the unconscious man's limp, bandaged hand. It had been no more than ten hours since his world had come crumbling down, and Nero was trying desperately to hold on to the last vestiges of his sanity, praying that he would wake.

The doctors had informed Nero that there had been significant trauma to V's head, likely something had smashed into him in the explosion, but they were unsure of the extent of the damage it had caused. They had said that until V woke up, they could not rule out the possibility of brain damage, or other neurological issues occurring.

The thought had left Nero terrified, knowing that V prided himself on his quick thinking and battle strategies, and it would hit him hard if that was taken away from him. Nero was also scared, that if that was the case, V would pull away from him; that he would think himself a burden to Nero and distance himself. He might even try to end their relationship – not that Nero would ever accept that of course, he would follow the other man until his last breath if he tried to break up with him for such a foolish reason.

Kyrie, Nico and even Credo popped in briefly, before being shooed out of the room by a harried nurse. With encouraging smiles, and soft pats on Nero's back, they all withdrew so as not to make too much more chaos for the overrun staff. They waited in the over-crowded visitor's room, feeling the weight of sorrow from those around them press down upon them. There were families clutching each other in worry, and others already wailing as doctor's delivered bad news to them.

They had not realised just how many people had been affected by the explosion, and each and every one of them vowed to get to the bottom of this. These people, all of these people, deserved retribution and they were going to make sure that they got it. Even if it had just been V who had gotten caught in the blast, everyone of them would have done the same, but they knew that the other man cared deeply for every person's life and that he would want the ones responsible to be punished.

Inside the quiet hospital room, Nero prayed silently to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in. He made deals with anyone who would listen within his own mind, offering anything to them if they would just let V wake. His tears slipped down his cheeks, falling upon their joined hands and soaking into V's bandages.

The beeping of the monitors, and the hurried footsteps outside the door, helped to muffle the sounds of Nero's sobs. His head lowered to rest upon the bed, his lips pressed gently against V's motionless arm, Nero waited. Time passed slowly, and eventually Nero fell into a light doze, eyes blinking lazily, until finally they remained closed.

Much later, Nero woke to the feel of clumsy fingers combing carefully through his hair, pulling him hazily from sleep. A small smile spread across his face, eyes searching lazily for V, before realisation slammed into him. Nero jerked upright with a little cry, knocking aside the hand in his hair. His wide blue eyes met with V's own hazed green, and relief stole the strength from his limbs.

Collapsing upon his seat once more, Nero could scared believe his eyes. After all the worrying and waiting for V to wake, Nero had managed to miss the moment entirely. His words stuck in his throat, and tears threatened to fall once more, before V's hoarse voice broke him from his downward spiral of self recrimination.

“Hey, missed you.”

Nero felt hysterical laughter bubble up in his throat, and choked it down, lest he worry V. He wasn't even sure of what he said to the other man, the words all tangling up in his mind to come tumbling out in a litany of pleas and relief.

V wasn't able to remain awake for much longer after that, his eyes drifting closed even as he responded to Nero. Pressing the call button to summon a nurse, Nero couldn't tear his eyes from V's sleeping form. This time, Nero did not dare fall asleep, afraid that he had dreamed that V had awoken and that he would wake to find V still unconscious or worse, dead.

All night he kept up his silent vigil, and when the sun started to rise again, V's eyes opened once more. His green eyes were clear and free of confusion, and Nero fell upon him in a flurry of kisses.


	12. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Vergil whump.

It wouldn't stop! The nightmares plagued him every night, and even after having expelled the manifestations of his fears, still they came to haunt his every dreaming moment.

There was no escape for him, and resignedly, Vergil had acknowledged that perhaps this was a fitting punishment for all of the nightmares he had forced upon others. Sometimes he wanted to knock himself senseless, let himself fall to the ground and be swallowed up by blessed darkness.

But that brought fears of it's own. Fears of being captured and used, of his mind being twisted and turned until he knew not himself, let alone others. He wanted to be alone, wanted no one to come close, to betray him once again – the sword piercing through his body with a scream of pain, his eyes meeting familiar blue, filled with regrets unspoken. But he also never wanted to be left with only himself for company, could not bear to remain in the silence when his own screams drowned him in a cacophony of recriminations and hatred.

He hated looking at himself in the mirror, never his own face staring back at him, but only the monster that he felt like inside. It would bare it's teeth at him, bloodied mouth stretched into a gross parody of mirth, even as it mocked Vergil for his weaknesses.

And oh how he hated himself then. How he hated how weak he felt, wishing so much for the warmth of another to help chase away the cold that had settled into his very bones. But who could he possibly ask for such a thing? Vergil knew that he was only allowed to stay here in the relative safety of Dante's home because his brother did not trust him to roam out on his own. He knew that Dante would laugh himself sick if Vergil broke down and asked to be held by him, and his son....oh his son.

Nero stared at him as though he had stolen his very world from him, as though he would sooner take the Yamato and cut from his body the one he really wanted, rather than offer comfort to the drowning man. And Vergil knew, _knew_, that he dared not push him. That the tentative truce that they seemed to have agreed upon, was so fragile, that any wrong move would shatter it; and he wasn't even sure if Dante would defend him. Would he deserve to be defended? Could his death be his redemption?

Or would that simply be the cowards way out? Vergil wondered sometimes, why he kept living. Why he kept taking each slow breath in and out. Why he bothered at all.

Walking into Dante's room, Vergil locked the door, the click echoing loudly in the empty room. He forced himself to the mirror in the corner, stared blankly at the face that looked back at him, and could not recognise this person.

Hair dark as night, fell to slim shoulders; green eyes and a sharply bladed nose, above pouting lips. The body was slim, adorned with shifting marks, and dressed in all black.

Those green eyes stared at him with recrimination. They reflected all of the horrors Vergil had caused in his mad quest for power, blame heavy in that unwavering stare. His mouth opened, poetry of all things spilling from his lips, each word punching through Vergil's chest and filling his blood with sweet poison. Although he knew the words by heart, never had he expected them to be used against himself.

This was the part of himself that he had tried to kill, that he had forced from himself and given life to, and then ripped that same life away. This was the part of Vergil that felt as he did now, that kept him awake at night filled with regrets.

A silver cane appeared in the reflection's hand.

This was the part of Vergil that was going to kill him.

The cane thrust forwards, tip passing through Vergil's flesh with barely a pause, before bursting forth from his back. Vergil grasped at the silver, hands quickly becoming bloodied where they held the metal. He didn't know when he hit the floor, the vision of his reflection staring sadly down at him the last thing he saw before the welcoming darkness of death took him.

Dante startled at the sound of a thud coming from his room, eyes quickly scanning the surroundings for Vergil. Unable to see the other man, Dante leapt from his chair and took the stairs two, sometimes three at a time. Upon arriving at his door, Dante cursed as he jiggled the handle, only to find that it was locked. Yelling out for Vergil to unlock the door, silence was his only answer.

Terror filling him, Dante abandoned his words, instead throwing himself at the door. It took but a few hits before the wood crumbled beneath his assault, and Dante stumbled into the room. The sight that met him as he looked up would never leave his mind.

Vergil knelt upon the ground before his mirror, head resting gently upon the cool glass surface, the Yamato once more thrust through his own chest. This time, instead of trying to remove his humanity from himself, it looked at though Vergil tried to remove himself from this world. His hands, bloodied from where he had obviously pushed the blade further through his body, were resting palm up upon his thighs.

Dante yelled out to Vergil, running to him. He didn't know what to do, wasn't sure that their demonic half would fix the damage that Vergil had inflicted upon himself. It could of course repair it, but only if Vergil himself wished to heal. And from the scene before him, Dante wasn't so sure Vergil would want to survive this.

His cries had brought Nero running into the room, his own blue eyes widening fearfully as he took in the man kneeling in a pool of his own blood. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, calling the ambulance and then rushing to the older man's side, avoiding the blood as best he could, to reach out to feel for a pulse. It was there, but weak and wavering.

Outside, the sirens wailed, signalling the arrival of help.

Vergil woke to a stark white room, the scent of antiseptic filling his nostrils, and his limbs strapped down to a hard bed. He struggled and tore at his restraints, his weakened body only just able to tear himself free. Immediately, Vergil tried to sit up, crying out as pain flared in his chest and back. Looking down, Vergil was confused when he saw bandages wrapped tightly around his body, and hastily tore them from himself. Beneath them, Vergil found a row of neat black stitches holding the skin together from what looked like a sword wound.

But...V had stabbed him with his cane, hadn't he? Vergil felt confusion overtake him, and startled harshly as the door to his room opened. Dante stepped through quietly, at though trying to not wake him. Startled blue eyes flew to meet Vergil's own confused eyes, and the two stared at each other silently.

“Why'd you do it Verg?” Dante finally broke the silence, stepping forwards to grasp at Vergil's arm. “Why'd you try to stab yourself with Yamato again?”

“I...I didn't.” Vergil denied. “I...in the mirror, my humanity. He, his cane. He stabbed me with his cane.”

Dante's eyes closed tiredly, his free hand rising to cover them.

“When I found you, you were leaning against the mirror with the Yamato thrust straight through your body. There was no V, and there was no cane.”

“But! But I....” Vergil trailed off, unsure of what he could say.

Dante silently pulled the nearby chair closer, staring seriously over at his brother. His unblinking stare bothered Vergil, but the hand he still had gripping his arm was grounding.

“I don't know how to say this Vergil, but....” Dante hesitated, unsure how his brother would take his next suggestion. “I think that you might need professional help. There's, there's something not quite right in your head right now, and I don't want to lose you to yourself. Please.”

Vergil wanted to snap at Dante that the very idea was ridiculous and completely unnecessary. But....was it? Was he not now paying the price for the tricks his own mind kept playing against himself? Could he be saved next time? Would there be a next time?

Vergil was weak. He knew it now, had always known it. But to be so weak as to destroy himself! Looking over at Dante, Vergil was surprised at how weak his brother looked also. He looked as though he were holding himself together by a thread, likely to break at a moment's notice; and Vergil was shocked. Dante wasn't weak, had never been weak – but here, now, because of Vergil, he was. And that was what decided him. If Dante could be strong enough to show Vergil his weakness, then Vergil could be strong enough to get help for himself.

“Ok. I'll talk to someone.”

Vergil's quiet words filled Dante with relief, and he pulled his brother into a careful embrace. Vergil jolted within his hold, and Dante went to pull back only to be held tighter. Sighing, Vergil settled into the embrace – the voices screaming so loudly in his mind finally quietening, and the ice that had frozen his veins, melting from the warmth of another.


	13. 'Don't Move'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows 'Explosion' and 'Unconscious'

Nero had stayed beside V throughout his entire recovery, hovering and worrying over his boyfriend, until finally sick and tired of his mothering, V had sent him away for the day.

Nero had dejectedly walked towards the door, only perking up slightly when V had called him back with an exasperated voice, pulling Nero down for a kiss. Nero had moaned as V had nipped at his lips slightly, his tongue slipping into his mouth to tangle with his own, before teasingly retreating once more. He had stared down in hazy confusion as V had pushed him back gently, reminding him that he was not to come back to the hospital for at least twenty four hours.

Mind still clouded by lust, Nero had merely nodded and walked out of the door, nearly slamming into the door frame on his way out. V had had to muffle his snort of laughter behind his hand as he watched his dazed boyfriend drift from the room. Once he was alone in, V laid back upon the bed tiredly. As much as he enjoyed Nero's attention and company, it had been tiring for V to pretend that he wasn't in as much pain as he was. He hadn't wanted Nero to worry too much, and V knew if Nero was aware of the extent of the pain he was still in, that he would not have a moment to himself again.

And that wouldn't be good for either man. V needed to quiet to rest and recover, and Nero needed to not run himself into the ground trying to be beside V for every waking moment. Already V could see the signs of exhaustion upon Nero's face, and was determined that they both not end up in the hospital. With another tired sigh, V finally sank blissfully back into sleep.

Nero was dejected that V had all but kicked him out and banned him from his hospital room; but at the same time he was looking forward to the opportunity to track down the culprit of the explosion. While he had been watching over his injured boyfriend, Kyrie, Nico and Credo had been investigating into just who or what might have been the cause.

Credo had used his police contacts to keep up to date with their information, and Nico had hacked into whatever computers and data bases that she could get into. Kyrie hadn't been able to help much with the investigation, working with children not really much help here, but she had made sure that none of the three of them ran themselves too ragged, and kept them all well fed. They had all been very thankful for her care, as without her, they would surely have pushed too hard and passed out.

By the time Nero shuffled back into his house, Credo and Nico had managed to narrow down their list of suspects to three. Nero sat at the kitchen table with them all, patiently waiting out their laughter when they were told he'd been kicked out by V, and then went over all of the information they had on their suspects.

“Dammit! I can't find anything between any of them!” Nero groaned, slamming his head on the table.

Kyrie placed her hand under where he was banging his head, chastising him lightly.

“Now now Nero. V would be most upset with us if we let you kill off your last remaining brain cells.” Credo and Nico had not even bothered to hide their laughter.

Kyrie stood beside Nero, scanning quickly over the papers upon the table, before she straightened up suddenly, grabbing one particular piece from the pile. The rest of the group stared at her startled, and waited to hear what she had to say.

“This man,” Kyrie motioned to the paper. “His brother died not long ago.”

“Ook...” Nico drawled. “Lots of people died not long ago chickee. What's so special about this guy's brother?”

“He was killed by a silver haired hunter after he was possessed by a demon.”

Silence met her statement, before they all scrambled to find more information on the brother's death.

“Here.” Credo cried out, holding up another piece. “He had been a bit of a wanderer, and had come home possessed with a demon of envy. His brother had tried to hide the fact, but their neighbours had called a hunter to stop the deaths that followed him. Afterwards, the man, Braydon, had vowed revenge against the silver haired devils who had killed his brother.”

“I think we have our man then.” Nero stated coldly. “Let's make him pay for hurting one of ours.”

The other three nodded solemnly, unable to bare the very thought of one of their own being hurt because of this bastard. Oh they understood why the man had wanted revenge, wanted to avenge his brother; but that didn't mean what he had done was right, or that they would take it lying down. No, this man was going to pay for his crimes, and they weren't going to leave it to chance or law to punish him.

They gathered together their weapons, though they left their guns in their cases, as knives would give them a much more..._personal_ approach. The click of the front door echoed within the empty room.

Braydon was walking home tiredly. It had been a constant worry each day, that the police would come knocking at his door, asking questions that he didn't have the answers to. He knew he should come clean, knew he should confess – he hadn't mean to hurt all of those other people after all – but he just couldn't bring himself to do it anymore. He kept telling himself that it was what his brother would have wanted; he would have wanted Braydon to avenge him and his death. But he hadn't meant to kill those innocents, nor harm them. He had just wanted to destroy their home, and everything they held dear within it.

He just hadn't realised the guilt that would follow him afterwards, hadn't really thought his plan through at all – mind clouded with hate and anger and pain. He also hadn't realised that he had drawn the ire of one of the most feared group of hunters left on the earth for his foolish actions.

The sound of muffled footsteps behind him startled him, but before he could turn to see who might be following him, the sharp point of a blade was pressed into his side.

“Don't move.” Nero hissed quietly into Braydon's ear.

The man stood still; frozen in place by fear, legs trembling as a dark car pulled up beside them. A harsh shove had him stumbling forwards, his hands being pulled behind him and held with cable ties. A cloth fell over his eyes, plunging him into darkness, and his body was manoeuvred into the car. The wheels of the car squealed as they took off, Braydon jolting forwards to bang his head on the chair in front of him. A snort of laughter from beside him, made him frown, but he decided that it was probably safer not to antagonise his kidnappers.

Braydon wasn't sure how long they drove for, but he was more than grateful when the car finally pulled to a stop. He wasn't sure just what these people had planned for him, nor why they had chosen him, but he was willing to bet that the ride over could have been considered torture on it's own.

“Get out.” That same voice growled at him, and his arms were tugged when he didn't move fast enough.

It was cold, and he could smell the salt in the air, leading Braydon to believe that they were somewhere near the docks perhaps. The location, and the time of night, did not lead him to believe that he would be walking out of this situation alive. After he had been shoved onto a chair, and strapped down to it, his blindfold was removed – and Braydon paled.

Silvery, white hair. Familiar hued blue eyes. A Sparda.

And by the looks of the extremely sharp knife he twirled in his hand, a very pissed off one.

“Ah, good. Looks like introductions are unnecessary.” Nero drawled, flipping the knife. “Now...care to tell me just why you decided that planting that bomb was a good idea?”

Braydon stuttered. He shook his head, fear clawing at his lungs, even as Nero frowned down at him, stepping closer. The warm, wetness running down his leg, let both Braydon and his onlookers know that he had wet himself in his fear.

“Pathetic.” Credo sneered, eyes crinkled in disgust.

“Aw, poor baby.” Nico cooed mockingly.

Kyrie said nothing as she was not there. Her softer nature made her less blood thirsty than the other three, though she still wanted justice for her friend and the others. Instead, Nero had sent her to keep V company, even though the other man had asked for peace. Nero knew that he would not turn Kyrie away, even if he knew that Nero was getting her to watch over V for him.

“Hmm, no words?” Nero asked calmly. “Well it just so happens that someone very important to me almost died in that explosion, someone that has nothing to do with your petty revenge. And I promised myself that I would make the culprit pay...”

A fist to the face was not what Braydon had been expecting, though the harsh bite of iron against his cheek that followed was. Blood trickled slowly down his face – the beginning to the blood bath that would soon follow.

“Pay day!” Nico crowed, drawing her own knife.

Credo merely hummed as he drew his own, contemplating where would hurt the most. Nero, he just smiled. It was a terrifying thing, something that made Braydon wonder if demons really did exist.

He would find out that night, that they did.


	14. Adrenaline

Adrenaline filled both Nero and V as they ran. The soldiers were close behind them, the thundering hooves of their horses drawing ever closer. If they had thought that they might be able to lose the less nimble horses in the forest, they soon found out their mistake when the baying of hounds joined the noises of pursuit.

They were soldiers themselves, though they were meant to be fighting on opposing sides in the war. But having grown up together, fallen in love with each other, neither man could bear to raise arms against the other man. They had tried not to join in the battle, but both had been conscripted into it. All able bodied men of age had been required to join, or they would be stoned as traitors.

Nero had read the notice nailed upon the town's walls, and with terror in his heart, he had fled to find V in their special hide out. V had already been there waiting for him, a similar notice held within his own hands. They had held each other tightly that night, scared that it would be the last time they would see one another, but still promising that they would reunite after the war was over. They would come here when the fighting was done, and then they could be together, even if they still had to hide.

But things hadn't worked out that way.

Nero's battalion had encountered V's nearly a month into the fighting, and it was clear to anyone with eyes, that the other side was at a severe disadvantage. Their weapons were sub-par, their training nearly non-existent, and their soldiers looked more like farmers and children than warriors.

The fight had not lasted long, could not last, not with that big a gap between them. As his troupe had marched off, Nero had turned back, desperately seeking out V. He found him, laying beneath the cooling body of a young boy whose face would forever be frozen in fear. Nero pushed the boy aside gently, taking in the blood that covered his lover, and the holes in his uniform.

Three. Three bullet holes that Nero could see, and the worst was not the one lodged into V's side, but the one that had pierced his leg. Nero knew that if he left now, V would not survive the night, not now that he wouldn't be able to run. Besides which, he didn't want to leave his lover behind. So with a small grunt of effort, Nero lifted V's limp form into his own arms, and hurried from the battlefield.

Hiding in an abandoned barn, Nero tended to V's injuries, thankful that the other man was still out of it as he had to dig out two of the three bullets from his flesh. His knife was coated in blood by the time he was finished, and his undershirt torn to make bandages, but V was taken care of and that was all that mattered.

V had been disorientated when he woke, and rapidly became alarmed when he realised that they would both be labelled as traitors. He knew that they should both return to their commanders, knew that it was the safest course of action; but he too could not bear to leave Nero now. And so they went on the run. They stole supplies when they could, breaking into abandoned buildings and houses, the guilt choking them, but being pushed aside as the need to survive overtook them. V slowly recovered from his wounds, though he would never fully recover the use of his leg, the damage having affected his nerves.

A careless moment is what had cost them their freedom. Nero had watched as V shivered terribly in the increasingly chill weather, and had laid his old military jacket upon his back. They had crept out of a house they had set up in, when a soldier had come out of nowhere recognising the uniform. Unfortunately he had also recognised the hint of V's own uniform beneath. He would have thought that V had merely stolen the jacket off of a dead body, if Nero had not appeared just then. Recognition flooded the man, having been in the same unit as Nero, and knowing that he had been declared a traitor to their country.

He let loose a piercing whistle to alert the rest of his unit, a wet gurgle ending the sound as Nero thrust his sword through the man's neck. With eyes widened with fear, Nero and V abandoned their temporary home and it's contents, running and trying to find safety once more.

Nero kept up a quick pace, holding tightly to V's hand. He knew that the other man was tiring quickly, his leg shaking in over exertion, but they could not stop to rest – not now, not until they lost their pursuers. They splashed their way through a shallow stream, Nero pulling them downstream for a distance, hoping to throw the hounds off their scent. The sounds of pursuit did not abate, was growing closer and closer with every moment.

Nero pushed them faster. He could just see the line that marked the boarder between the two nations, knew that their pursers dared not cross over. If they could just make it there, then they could escape. Throw off all of their identifying coats, and make a home for themselves. V would not be re-recruited now, not with his injured leg, and Nero would deal with the issue if it ever arose.

Three hundred steps. That was all there was until the border. Two hundred.

Gunshots fired out, and Nero ducked his head and started weaving left and right, presenting a harder target to aim for. One hundred steps, they were nearly there, so close that Nero could taste the freedom.

V's hand jerked from his own, a pained cry escaping him as he fell to the ground. Nero turned, seeing blood oozing from V's back, and raced back for him. He was not leaving V behind, even if it meant death for them both. If they died, it would be together.

“Nero no! Keep going, leave me here!” V cried out, tears streaming down his face. “Please!”

“No V! I'm not leaving you behind. Either we both go, or we both stay.” Nero's face was determined, and V sobbed as he resigned himself to their fate.

Nero lifted V from the ground, supporting his trembling body as they stumbled towards the boarder. Eighty steps. The hoof beats were nearly upon them now, the hounds practically at their heels, and yet still they walked forwards. Sixty steps. The hounds surrounded them, teeth bared and jaws snapping at them as they tried to push through. Fifty five steps. The butts of several rifles fell upon them both, sending them tumbling unconscious to the ground.

They woke tied at the wrists and ankles, kneeling upon a stained sand ground. Before them stood rows of soldiers, rocks and stones held within their hands, sneers upon their faces. V turned towards Nero, met his blue eyes, and held them even as the stones started hitting them.

V cried out in pain as a rock landed upon his cheek, shattering the bone, and still he watched Nero. Nero's face was coated in blood, but he offered a small smile to V, turning into a grimace as his ribs were broken.

“I love you V.” Nero slurred, voice wavering with pain. “Together forever ok?”

“Together forever.” V replied.

The flurry of stones that fell upon them then, stealing any further words from their mouths, pain overcoming their senses, and yet still they kept eye contact. Finally darkness took them both, their bodies falling upon the stained ground to lie beside one another, their eyes never having left the other.


	15. Tear Stained

Nero sat alone in his room at Devil May cry, blinking his eyes rapidly to try to keep his tears at bay. He had returned alone from the fight upon the Qliphoth, Dante and Vergil having disappeared into the Underworld, and V....V disappearing into Vergil.

Nico had offered to accompany Nero to the shop, but he had simply shook his head, too tired and heartsick to want company – needing to be alone to scream and cry at the unfairness of everything. He had shuffled dejectedly into the room he had claimed as his own, during their month long wait to take on Urizen, and his eyes had immediately fallen upon the pristine white envelope resting against his pillow. With a heavy heart, Nero had reached out for the paper, tearing it open and reading the words inside.

The paper crumpled within Nero's hold, the ink having run from the tear stains, leaving patches of words indecipherable. And yet still, Nero knew exactly what V had written to him, had left for him to find after everything was over.

_Nero,_

_My love, my life,_

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for all of the lies and secrets. I'm sorry for never telling you how this would end, for leaving you like this._

_I can't even begin to beg for your forgiveness and I do not deserve it even if I could. I just want you to know why I did what I did._

_I told you didn't I? At the very end. I wanted to be protected and loved. And you Nero, you did that for me, you held me so close and tenderly, like no one ever has before. Even when you thought you hated me, you kept me safe from harm. Somehow, you became my everything._

_But I had to leave you, I had to fix the mistakes that I had made. I could not have continued living with myself if I had kept living a half life; a lie. I would not have been the man you thought me to be then._

_I don't even know if you will read this – perhaps you hate me now that you know the truth. Perhaps you are even glad that I am gone. But all I can do is apologise once more, and hope that one day you will forget me and move on, because I never deserved you. I never deserved your love or your kindness._

_I will always treasure the time that we had together; as short as it may have been. Just know, that that was the happiest I can ever remember being, in both lifetimes._

_Goodbye Nero._

_All my love,_

_V._

Fresh tears fell upon the paper, Nero's eyes tracing over the words again and again. Each recrimination sending stabs of hurt through his heart – as if he could ever be glad that V had vanished! - his throat tightening as he tried to stifle his sobs.

It wasn't fair. Why did V have to make him fall in love with him? Why did he have to leave? V said that he couldn't have lived with himself for not righting his wrongs, but could he have not done so without disappearing and leaving Nero bereft?

  
Nero curled up on his bed, clutching the crumpled paper within his shaking hands. His spectral wings manifested, wrapping themselves around Nero in a mockery of the arms he wished were holding him, causing him to curl further into himself. Tears continued to fall, until finally sleep claimed him, and he dreamed of his dark haired poet.


	16. Scars

Nero ran.

He raced as fast as his legs could carry him after Dante, refusing to be left behind. Not this time, not now; never again. He was not going to just let V disappear like that; he didn't care what Dante had said – that V wasn't real, and had only existed as a part of Vergil – he was going to get him back. Nero didn't care if he had to rip the other man from his father's body with his bare hands, V was not going to remain gone for long.

A strangled sob caught in Nero's throat as the stumbled across the end of Dante's fight with V's companions, watching with tear filled eyes as they too crumbled to ash and faded away. Yet another loss to add to the list, Nero thought stumbling forwards.

On his way up the giant tree, Nero passed a phone box, hanging on by a miracle, an considered stopping to call Kyrie. But he could not allow himself the comfort of her voice, telling him what he already knew. Nero could not allow Dante and Vergil to fight, could not allow them to destroy each other, lest his chance at saving V disappear.

He could hear the clash of steel when he was not even halfway up the tree, fear urging him to push himself faster and harder to reach the summit. White, hot pain flashed through his arm, and flames seemed to spread throughout his entire body, his transformation overtaking him. If Nero had had the time, perhaps he would have been shocked by the change, but the only thing in his mind now, was the fact that this new body could help him reach V faster. Spectral wings flaring out to either side of him, Nero launched himself into the air.

He landed between the fighting brothers, a hand against each of their chests, pushing them away from each other. His father seemed to be intrigued by his change, and Dante confused, but Nero did not care. His push caused them both to fly apart, but rather than stand and observe the pair, Nero launched himself after Vergil's flying body.

His human hands grasped onto his arms, pinning them to his sides, his spectral hands curling into clawed fists above him.

“Give him back!” Nero growled out.

Vergil looked confused briefly, before snide laughter broke from him.

“Unfortunately V is gone now. There's no getting him back, unless you want to deal with Urizen again.”

Vergil smirked, looking as though he expected Nero to back down now; though the smirk was soon wiped from his face at Nero's next words.

“I would gladly tear you limb from limb to get V back. I would deal with a thousand Urizens if that would only mean I could have him by my side again.” Vergil looked ashen with shock. “Now. GIVE. HIM. BACK!”

Vergil shook his head, unable to form words as Nero's mere presence pressed down threateningly upon him. Dante tried to pull Nero from Vergil, tried to reason with him, but was soon sent flying by a harsh backhand from his wings.

“Fine then.” Nero's voice was eerily quiet. “I'll just take him back myself.”

His spectral hands plunged into Vergil's chest, disappearing inside of the screaming man. His hands held Vergil's writhing body down, spectral fingers digging through his very soul, grasping onto a familiar presence.

Nero let go of Vergil, the other man collapsing upon the ground, his glowing blue wings pulling back slowly. Held carefully within his grasp, the transparent form of V was pulled carefully from Vergil's body. When he was finally pulled free, V's body became corporeal, Nero rushing forwards to catch him as he fell.

Dante raced to Vergil's side, terrified that he would change into Urizen at any moment, but nothing happened. Vergil rolled onto his hands and knees panting, staring unseeingly at the ground before him, memories of _pain, torture, screaming until his lungs burst_, filling his mind. He had escaped that hell, only to have it come back to him in his every waking moment. His son. _His son_ had done this to him. Vergil's mind shut down, falling limp upon the ground as Dante reached out towards him. He turned the man over, and although Vergil's eyes remained open, Dante knew that he was no longer aware.

But Nero knew none of this, sat as he was upon the ground further away, cradling the limp form of V within his arms.

Nero's eyes traced V's body. Taking in the scars now covering his arms from where his contracts with his familiars had been severed. He brushed back V's snowy white hair, murmuring to him to wake up now, that it was safe and Nero had saved him. Nero smiled when he saw V's eyes open, turned his head towards his own and kissed him gently.

He pulled back in confusion as V did not respond, and started to worry as aside from the slowly blinking, V didn't react to anything Nero did or said. Nero shook V, trying to get a response from the other man, but his head merely flopped from side to side, laying limply where it fell. Nero's movements became more and more frantic, begging the other man to return to him.

“V....what's happening? I saved you. I saved you!” Nero screamed out. “NO!”

And still, V laid like the dead, only the slow blinking proving that he lived.  


Nero cried out as V's body started to crumble within his arms, cracks and fissures appearing along that creamy, white skin, leaving Nero with nothing but dust held within his hands.

He hadn't known. Nero hadn't realised that no matter how much V had wanted to live and to be his own person, he just could not survive without Vergil. And so having been torn forcefully from his whole once more, V crumbled to ash, leaving Nero clutching at nothing but air; both sets of hands trying to hold onto the last remaining pieces of V.

Nero had tried to save V. He had tried. But in the end, he had killed him more permanently than before, and left all three men broken in different ways.

Nero had broken Vergil's mind, his forceful actions causing him to retreat back into himself, never allowing himself to return and risk more torture.

Dante was unable to cope with his brother's blankness, and unwilling to forgive Nero for his actions.

And Nero, Nero lost everything. He risked everything for love, pulling V from Vergil, but realising he had pulled out only the shell of the other man. His physical form, but not his mind. In the end, he lost his family and his lover, left alone and with a shattered heart, his list of the lost having grown even longer.


	17. Pinned Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rape  
Please skip if this affects you.

V woke groggy and disorientated, pinned down by the weight of a hot body pressing down on him. Hands wandered his naked form, though he couldn't remember just when he had stripped off his clothes. He tried opening his eyes, but found that they had been covered with something – Nero obviously having been in a bit of a naughty mood.

V smiled sleepily, a little moan escaping him as Nero nipped at his neck. He tried to circle his arms around Nero to pull him closer, but found that they too were being held down. With a little frown, V tried tugging at them, the hands holding them tightening around his wrists – this, this was wrong. V had assumed Nero had used ties, and his hazy mind was starting to feel uneasy.

If..if Nero's hands were holding his wrists above his head, then just who else was touching V so intimately? Lips suddenly covered his own, taking and claiming, and V wrenched his head away in fear. Those were not Nero's lips. The hands touching him, holding him down, they were not Nero's, and V had no idea who they belonged to.

“N..Nero?” V called out tentatively.

His call was met with the sounds of harsh laughter, from at least three different voices, filling his ears. He thrashed upon what he now realised was a lounge, music from the club Nero and he had visited, filtering in through the walls. The hands gripping his wrists tightened further, his bones feeling like they were grinding together, and he cried out. He tried kicking out his legs, until they too were grabbed, his upper body being pinned by the person laying on top of him.

“Now, now sweetheart, that's no way to treat your saviours is it?” The man atop him mocked. “Here we are, good citizens who helped you when you nearly passed out in the loos, and you aren't even giving us a proper thank you.”

“That's just downright rude I'd say.” This came from the person above him.

“But that's ok, because you're going to fix that now aren't you?”

V struggled as his legs were parted further, the slick slide of fingers separating his cheeks, and delving into his core making him cry out in fear and pain. The click of a camera shutter filled the room, and V could feel tears start to drip from his eyes, dampening the cloth covering them.

“Be a good boy, and that boyfriend of yours will never have to see these pictures yeah?” His face was grabbed harshly, cheeks held in a crushing grip. “You'll be good for us won't you Pretty Boy?”

V sobbed as he nodded, resigned. He did not want Nero to see those pictures. Oh, he knew Nero would not think that V had cheated on him, but he did not want Nero to see just how dirtied he had become. Did not want Nero to see him used and abused like this.

V felt his mouth being pried open, something thick and blunt pressing itself between his lips, then further, choking him. He wanted to bite down, sink his teeth into the flesh filling his mouth, and rip it from the foul body it was attached to. But as though they could read V's mind, his jaw was grabbed again, words hissed into his ear.

“Don't even think about it sweetheart. You use those pearly whites against us and these pictures will end up all over the internet for lover boy to see. Understand?”

V made a noise of assent, his mouth still filled and his head pushed back against the lounge. He squeezed his eyes closed behind the blindfold fingers pushed into him, a moan of pain escaping him at the harshness. The man thrusting into his throat moaned at the vibrations, pushing himself further down, choking V and stealing his air.

V hadn't been sure just what the third man had been doing, but the sound of a camera shutter clicks going off again and again, soon informed him. V could hear the slick sounds of the third man jerking himself off to the sight before him, his lewd moans filling V with disgust.

“This is going to be some prime jerk off material boys.” His groaning voice rang out, drawing grunts of agreement from the others.

V tried. He really did. He tried to blank his mind and relax his body; tried to pretend that it was Nero making love to him, and not strangers holding him down like this. But that just made everything worse.

Nero wouldn't touch V like this. Nero wouldn't hold him down like this. He wouldn't.

V screamed behind his flesh gag as he was entered. He could feel himself stretch and tear, could feel blood start to trickle between his thighs, laughter his only answer. He tried to thrash, to move away from the pain. He needed to get away, he needed to _breathe!_

Thighs bracketed V's head, holding him in place as the man grunted and groaned above him, thickening within his abused mouth. V clawed and scratched at him, body begging him for air, choking desperately.

He needed air. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't......

When V woke again, he was alone. With hesitant hands, he removed his blindfold, eyes taking in the damage.

His body ached fiercely, bruises blooming across his pale skin, semen cooling over what felt like the entirety of his body. It was in his hair and on his face, he could feel it dripping down his sides; could taste the foul muskiness on the back of his tongue. He rolled to his side, a hiss of pain escaping him as he did so. It was when he felt the slick slide of someone's seed and his own blood dripping from his abused hole, that V started retching.

His body heaved with the convulsions, bile and semen splattering to the floor where he had been left. His skin crawled at the thought of that man having been inside of him; and worse, having come inside of him unprotected. How was he going to tell Nero? He couldn't, he couldn't tell Nero. Nero would leave him, think he was dirty, used – a cheater. V muffled his sobs with his hands. He couldn't lose Nero to this. He wouldn't allow this to break them.

He would have to hide what had happened, have to go to the doctor alone and get tested. V knew that he would have to wait until the tests came back before he could let Nero touch him again, though the very thought of being touched at all filled him with fear and disgust.

Slowly and carefully, V cleaned himself up the best he could. He dragged his clothes on gently, body screaming in agony. He didn't know where the men had gone, could only hope that they had kept their word and not shown Nero the pictures they had taken, but he was thankful that he was alone now. He wasn't sure he would have been able to cope if they had still be there when he had awoken again.

Slipping out of what turned out to be a private room, V scanned the club for Nero. He found him standing at the bar, frowning down at his phone, and made his way slowly towards him. He hesitated to reach out to touch the other man, but forced himself to do so. Nero turned to him quickly, sending V skittering back a few paces, bumping into a few other people and sending him into a panic.

Nero gripped at V's arms tightly, unaware of just how close V was coming to losing it completely at the hold.

“Let go, let go, LET GO!” V screamed, attracting the attention of those around them.

Nero's brow furrowed in surprise, but thankfully he released his hold on V's arms. “V? What's wrong baby? Where were you? I was looking for you.”

“Nothing, nothing's wrong Nero.” V shook his head slightly. “I was in the bathroom, there was a line.”

Nero's mouth flattened at the lie; he'd checked the bathroom several times and V had not been in there. But he let the lie pass, V wasn't looking well.

“You look a bit pale. Do you want to go home?” Nero reached out to touch V's face, frowning again as V dodged the contact.

“Yeah, if you don't mind? I'm feeling a bit under the weather now that you mention it.”

“Of course it's fine. You should have just said.”

Nero helped guide V through the crowds, V gritting his teeth as he tried not to slap his hand away from himself. He wanted to scream and cry, to curl up in a dark corner and die. Those men had taken more than just V's body; they had taken the comfort and protection that Nero had once offered to V. Now all he could think of were hard hands holding him down, instead of Nero's careful hold, every touch making him want to cringe.

Finally they made it to the door, V finally letting loose a sigh of relief. Just as he pushed the door open to step through, his eyes connected with another man's. The lust and mirth held within them filling V with trepidation. The feeling exploding into a full blown panic attack as he raised his hand, a picture of V trapped between two men displayed proudly upon the screen. Terror filled him then, and he gladly accepted the warm embrace of unconsciousness.


	18. Stay With Me

“Stay with me.”

The sound of V's quiet voice froze Nero to the spot as he gathered his clothes together again. He glanced over his shoulder at the other man, reclined upon the bed he had just left, the sheen of sweat and sex not yet having dried upon his skin.

Nero wished that he could climb back into that bed with V, could wrap himself around him, and sink back into his body, but he couldn't – Kyrie was waiting for him at home.

“You know I can't V,” Nero sighed, turning away from the temptation V offered. “Kyrie's waiting.”

V's face closed off at those words, heart thudding painfully within his own chest, even as he brushed Nero off. “Fine then, go.”

“V, don't be like this please.” Nero knelt beside the bed, trying to catch V's eye; the other man avoiding his gaze.

Nero reached out a hand to tilt V's face towards him, but jerked back as V's hand rose to swat him away.

“I said go.” V's voice could have frozen lava, the frigid words and V's cold eyes stabbing Nero through the chest.

V kept his gaze hard; could not afford to break and soften now, not when tears threatened to fall at any moment. He would not allow Nero to see him like that, not when it was his fault that he was feeling this way. Not when Nero had promised time and time again that he would end things with Kyrie, just to keep stringing them both along like this.

Perhaps.....perhaps it was time for V to put an end to this. He didn't know how much longer he could keep pretending that this wasn't tearing him apart. That he didn't wish that Nero would stop coming over to fuck him, only to leave straight away to spend time with his 'girlfriend'.

Nero sighed and rose from the floor, knees cracking as he stood. He walked to the door, with each step expecting V to call out to him. He was halfway out the door before V's voice rang out once more, startling him as he hadn't realised V had risen from the bed.

“Nero, this is the last time. Don't come back again.” V gently pushed Nero back a few steps, the door quietly closing on his shocked face. The click of the door locking sounded loud in the deserted hallway, and Nero could feel the finality in the sound. Heartbroken, he shuffled out to his car.

V's back slid down the door, burying his head against his knees as his body shook with tears. That was it, he'd done it; he'd finally broken things off with Nero. His head knew that it was for the best, but his heart still ached.

Nero closed the door quietly behind him, eyes instantly falling upon Kyrie's expectant face. With a quiet swear, Nero realised that he had been meant to bring home some things from the store, but in his shock over V breaking up with him, Nero had forgotten.

“Sorry, sorry. I forget to pick the stuff up, I'll head out again and get it now.” Nero turned to leave again, stopping as he heard Kyrie's voice call out to him.

“It's fine Nero, we can go in the morning ok? You don't look to well though, why don't you have a shower and go lie down. I'll be in in a little while.”

The soft smile she sent to him sent a pain lancing through his chest. Nero didn't deserve her; hadn't deserved V either, and thinking about it now, he wasn't surprised that the other man had broken things off. V had been increasingly unhappy the longer their affair had continued, Nero could see how a little bit more of his heart had broken each time he left him lying there to return to Kyrie. And the thing was, sometimes Nero was as desperate to stay as V was to have him remain.

But, he couldn't do that to Kyrie. He couldn't break up with her, even if he no longer felt the same way that he had when they first started seeing each other. Perhaps if Nero had never met V he might have stayed in love with her, but he knew that what he felt for her was not even a drop in the ocean of the feelings he had for V.

But V hadn't been able to do this anymore, and had ended things. Nero no longer had to feel guilt for cheating on Kyrie, and things could once more go back to the way they used to be. Nero just hoped that he would still be able to see V around the place, the very thought of never seeing him again nearly bringing him to his knees.

Nero hadn't realised just how much time he had spent with V, before the other man cut himself so abruptly from his life. He had thought that they would still continue to spend time together, regardless of whether or not they still continued their affair, but V had ignored and avoided him each time he had approached, and Nero was feeling pretty devastated at the loss.

It had gotten to the point where even Kyrie had begun to notice that something was wrong, not least because Nero found himself unable to perform in the bedroom any longer. Each time he went to embrace the woman, images of V's face panting in ecstasy beneath him would fill his mind; her skin looked and felt wrong, and her voice was not the husky moans that he craved for.

She had sat him down solemnly after their last disastrous attempt; this time Nero nearly choking out V's name as she had gone down on him. Her eyes had flickered up to Nero then, understanding flashing within her hazel eyes. That sat across from each other at their small kitchen table, each nervously avoiding the other's eyes. Finally, it was Kyrie who swallowed the lump in her throat, and broke the silence.

“You love him don't you?”

Nero started badly, eyes widening as the meaning behind her words penetrated his brain. Still though, he tried to deflect.

“Who?” The look Kyrie shot him was unimpressed.

“V. The man that you have been sleeping with for almost as long as you have been seeing me. The man that broke off all contact with you recently and sent your mind into a tailspin. That's who.”

“I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this....” Nero's weak voice trailed off, unsure how to make up for his lies.

Kyrie's eyes drifted to the side, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “I always knew Nero, that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I always knew that you two were meant to be together. And as much as this hurts now, I knew too that one day I would lose you to him.”

Nero was speechless. He didn't know what to say to Kyrie about her confessions, because they were true. Everything she had said was true. If Nero had met V first, he never would have started seeing Kyrie, he wouldn't have lied and cheated and broke all of their hearts like this. But by the time he had met V, Nero had already been halfway in love with her, and he hadn't felt able to end their relationship for something so fleeting as an affair. If only he had known now what he did then.

“Why aren't you with V Nero? What happened between you two?” Kyrie's voice was soft, a note of hurt hidden beneath the steady tone.

Now it was Nero's turn to shift his gaze away, shame and heartbreak flooding his face.

“He broke up with me.” His voice hitched. “He told me not to come back again, and has taken to avoiding me ever since.”

The slap on the back of the head was completely unexpected, and Nero went tumbling off his chair and on to the floor. Kyrie stood above him with rage painted across her delicate features, cheeks flushed with anger.

“Because you hurt him deeply. Did you expect that he would want to be friends after you broke his heart day after day? After you returned to me and left him on his own? You're an idiot Nero, and I don't know if you deserve him.”

Nero hung his head, shamed. He hadn't thought about things like that; hadn't thought beyond what he was feeling. But now he had to make it right – with both V and Kyrie.

“I...” Nero hesitated, unsure how to break up with Kyrie without sounding like a heartless bastard – or well, more of one than he already was.

“Nero. I'm breaking up with you.” Kyrie's voice cut off his thoughts. “I think that's the best thing for both of us, and I need time to be away from you.”

Kyrie's voice trembled, and Nero wanted to go to her, offer comfort. But he knew that it wouldn't be welcomed; her body was held tightly, all but screaming to be left alone, and Nero didn't feel that he had the right to offer comfort when he was the reason she was hurting. Instead he picked himself up, gathered together a few of his things, and headed to the door. Before he passed through though, he paused, and spoke over his shoulder.

“I'm sorry Kyrie. Just know that I did love you too.” Tears prickled at the corner of Nero's eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“I know, Nero. I know. Just not as much as him.”

Unable to refute that, Nero said nothing, the soft click of the door falling closed behind him.

It took Nero nearly three weeks to gather the courage to approach V again, and unsurprisingly, he was rebuffed again and again. It got to the point where Nero had to try to corner the other man, just to try to get him alone to talk, but V was slippery and kept slipping from Nero's grasp. In the end, Nero had had to catch him at work, stalking him through the bookshelves at the local library.

“V.” Nero's voice trembled with suppressed emotion, finally managing to take in the other man, for the first time in months.

V turned at the call of his name, his face falling when he saw Nero standing there. He turned quickly, ready to leave, before Nero called out again.

“Stay. Please stay with me.” Nero knew that it was a low move to use the same words V had uttered against him, but he couldn't think of any other way to get him to stop.

V obviously didn't feel the same way, whirling around towards Nero, hurt and anger upon his pale face.

“Don't. Don't say that to me. Never again. We are done here.”

Nero hurriedly reached out to grab at the fleeing V, hand closing around V's trembling hand.

“Please, I'm sorry. Please hear me out? I've left Kyrie.” V stilled at Nero's desperate words, features turning hard and cold, confusing Nero. He had thought that the news that he had broken up with Kyrie would make V happy.

“And what? You thought that I would just fall back into your arms again, is that it?” V hissed.

“I...what? No! No I didn't think that!” Nero cried, frantically trying to gather together his wits. This was not going the way he had hoped it would. And though he had said he didn't expect V to fall back into his arms happily, he had kind of hoped for just that.

“Just because you are free now, doesn't mean that I am! I have moved on Nero, I don't need you to offer pity fucks to me anymore.”

“That's not what they were and you know it!” Nero shouted, not even realising he'd raised his voice.

“V? Are you ok?” Another of the library workers had come over, drawn by the sound of Nero's raised voice.

“It's fine Julian,” Nero hated the soft smile V offered the other man, glowering angrily at him. “Nero was just a little excited. But he's heading out now, and won't be causing any more of a disturbance. Isn't that right Nero?”

With both V and Julian's eyes on him, Nero could do nothing but nod in acceptance, reluctantly walking out of the library. But he would be back; he wasn't going to let V go – boyfriend or not. He was going to win him back, no matter what it took.


	19. Asphyxiation

V had always known that there would be a risk in telling Nero the truth of his origins. He had known that the younger man had a furious temper that was not to be trifled with, that he was quick to anger, but slow to forgive – that is if forgiveness was even an option.

V had known that Nero could not, _would not_, forgive the man who tore off his arm and threatened his family's safety.

But still, with them growing closer every day – to the point where they weren't just sating their bodies with each other anymore – their feelings growing into something more, something deeper, V had thought that he owed Nero the truth.

Slammed against the outside of the van, Nero's devil breaker wrapped tightly around his neck, cutting off his air, V realised that it had been a mistake. His marked hands scrambled helplessly against the cold metal, nails scratching uselessly, legs kicking wildly.

His familiars exploded into being then, make aware of V's distress, but he would not allow them to attack Nero. He did not want them to hurt the other man, no matter how tightly he gripped at his throat; but he also didn't want Nero to hurt them either. V couldn't live without them; both literally and metaphorically.

Their demonic power was all that was holding his failing body together, and their presence within his mind kept him sane. Or as sane as half a person could be.

Nero stared up at V's face, holding the man off of the ground and watching him frantically writhe as he desperately tried to draw air into his starved lungs. His blue eyes stared icily into rapidly hazing green, any feelings he had once thought he was developing, disappearing when the truth of the other man's duplicity came to light. He couldn't believe that he had thought that he might even....that he had felt _anything_ at all besides disdain and anger for this man. No wonder he had wanted to deal with Urizen.

Nero felt betrayed. This man, he was the one who had started this, he had brought this plague upon humanity. It didn't matter what he was trying to do now, regret changed nothing. He watched as V's struggles lessened, watched how his face took on a blue tint, green eyes finally rolling into the back of his head, body falling limp within his hands.

It would be so easy to just snap his neck right now, the other man offering no resistance. He could tighten his fist, and choke the rest of the air from him even. But he did neither. Instead, Nero threw V's limp body from both himself and the van, not even looking where he fell. He didn't turn to look as V's familiars raced towards their contract holder, didn't care either why V had not let them attack him. Instead he entered the van, closing the door and telling Nico to drive. He ignored her confused look, merely growling at her to get going, and with great reluctance, she did.

Not once did Nero look back, for if he did, he would have seen the body he had thrown carelessly aside, crumble to dust. Would have seen the terror upon the faces of V familiars as he broke apart, shattered in mind, body and spirit, never again to return to Vergil. As they too faded, Griffon wondered if Nero would have even felt regret if he did see.

Nero made it to the heart of the Qliphoth just as Dante threw Urizen down. He looked around, almost half expecting to see V stood there also, the other man always seemed to be where he needed to be. But he wasn't there. Dante threw Nero a look of confusion as he arrived alone, peering around him to check for V, but saw nothing.

“Where's Mr Poetry?” Dante queried.

“We split up.” Nero replied shortly. “We had a....difference of opinion that we could not settle.”

“Ah,” Dante hummed. “You found out he was part of Vergil then.”

“You knew?” Nero cried incredulously.

“You didn't?” Dante returned. “Regardless we need him now, otherwise there is no way to stop this.”

Demonic laughter filled both their ears, causing them to turn to Urizen's prone form.

“Didn't you know young Sparda? The one you call V died after you choked the very life from him. He can not help you now. There is no way for Vergil to return as I am all that is left of him, his humanity gone forever.”

Nero felt sick. He had killed V? No, no he couldn't have. V had been alive still when he left him, hadn't he? He had never killed a human before....and V had been human, hadn't he?

Dante felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach. No Vergil? Even in the next life, he could not return, not without being whole. All that they could do now, was kill the demon before them, hope that the two parts of the severed soul reunited in death.

He stepped forwards, sword raised. He plunged it into the demon's chest, his own feeling like a gaping wound had opened up. Inside his head, Dante could have sworn that he could hear Vergil's cries.

Nero collapsed under the weight of the screams that filled the area, unaware that they were his own. Before him, he could have sworn that he saw V, whole and healthy, reaching out to grasp at Urizen's hand. Slowly the two faded, their bodies merging together to create a single form. One who looked both unfamiliar and so utterly familiar that his breath hitched in his throat.

Turning towards the shocked pair, Vergil raised a hand in lazy farewell, turning and disappearing into the light, leaving the two men on their own once more.


	20. Muffled Scream

V shivered as he walked home, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck, and pulling the edges of his jacket in closer. Still the wind was biting and he could feel the chill down to his very bones.

It was late now, well past midnight, his shift at the bar having ended a while ago, but he had stayed back to help clean up regardless. A decision that he was now regretting slightly, as the muffled scuff of footsteps following him, sent his heart racing fearfully.

V was no stranger to things that stalked you in the night. He had moved to this town after an old relationship had turned bad; his boyfriend dogging his every step, messages being sent to him at all times of the day or night, listing his movements and actions. Terrified, V had gone to the police and been moved into protective custody. He hadn't wanted to leave his old life behind, but the last straw had been when after a night out with friends, he had woken chained up to his bed, his boyfriend hovering over him with a sinister smile. V had not walked away from that night unscathed, a permanent limp now his constant companion.

And now, with those slow, shuffling steps following behind him, it was bringing back every bit of fear that he had once felt. V hurried his steps, a muffled curse from behind him, accompanied the quickened pace of his pursuer, and he tried to break into a hobbling run. His hand darted into his pocket, frozen fingers gripping desperately at his phone, the plastic falling from his hand and landing upon the ground.

V did not have time to stop to pick it up, the shadowed figure behind him quickly catching up, and so he abandoned it. With stupidity, born of desperation, V darted into the back alleyways, hoping to lose his pursuer in the twisting maze of intersecting paths. He tried to be quiet, tried to slow his loud, rasping breaths; tried to quieten his footsteps as he ran, until eventually he paused to listen.

No sound of pursuit reached his ears, and finally his heart settled back into it's normal rhythm. V wondered if it would be safe now for him to retrieve his phone – if he should risk being followed once more – or leave it and hope that someone might turn it in. But....V needed his phone. It was his only way to call for help, his apartment not having a landline installed. That knowledge settled his decision, he had to go back for his phone, and if he was found again, he could always lose them in the back streets once more; it had worked the first time after all.

Creeping slowly back out onto the street, V kept an eye out for any other people. The road was deserted, and not a single trace of another person lingered. Hurrying quickly, V darted out to collect his phone, breathing out a sigh of relief when the plastic rested in his hand. Pulling his clothes around himself even tighter, V rushed towards the safety of his home and away from the threat of shadows in the night.

His limbs ached from the tension he felt by the time he arrived home, his key once more jamming in the lock. Finally with a loud 'click' his door swung open, and V shuffled tiredly inside.

His door slammed closed behind him, a gloved hand reaching out to cover his mouth, muffling his screams. A hard body pressed up against V's back, and a strong arm wrapped itself around V's waist, holding him in place. Rolling his eyes wildly, V managed to catch sight of his assailant.

Cropped white hair, and blazing blue eyes, filled with madness and lust.

Warm breath washed over V's ear, Nero's voice crooning happily to him.

“I've finally found you again V. This time, there will be no escape.”


	21. Trembling

Nero and V were playing hide and seek together, their mother watching over them from the kitchen window as she prepared dinner, before the screaming started. It came, quietly at first from down in the nearby town, increasing in volume the longer they persisted.

Terrified, V abandoned their game, rushing inside to clutch at his mother's skirt, burying his face in the folds of material. Nero hadn't come when he called for him, likely thinking that V was trying to trick him into revealing his hiding place, and V felt fear for his brother fill him. Taking his hand gently, their mother led V into the bedroom, opening up the closet and carefully ushering him inside.

She told him to stay there and hide, not to make a sound, and if she didn't come back with Nero, to flee and forget everything – to live. V tried to grip her hand, not wanting her to leave him alone in the dark, but she pulled out of his grasp, whirling around to find Nero, calling out desperately for him.

The sounds of growls and screams filled V's ears; the crackle of fire beginning to overtake his senses, and he trembled in fear. He wished his mother was here, he wished his father was here. He even wished that Nero was here, as annoying as he sometimes found his brother. V just wished that he wasn't alone in the dark.

Footsteps pounded up the hall, a body shoved through the door way of the bedroom and hurried instructions given in his mother's voice. V held his breath as the door slammed, the sound of hesitant steps creeping closer to his hiding place making him push back against the clothes hanging from the rail, trying to cover himself.

The closet door creaked open, Nero's familiar face poking into the darkness.

“V?” He whispered uncertainly.

V reached out and tugged Nero into the darkness with himself, shutting the door firmly but quietly. Outside their bedroom, the boys could hear the terrible sounds of demons stalking the halls. They could hear their mother's screams as she was caught, trying to lead them away from her children. The terrible sounds of flesh tearing filled their ears, both boys raising their hands to try to cover up the sounds. Tears dripped down their cheeks, as they huddled together, each seeking warmth and safety.

The demons could be heard tracking back towards their room, the soft, wet squelch of their footsteps, bringing terrible images to their minds. The thing that both saved them and doomed them both, was the heat of fire licking into the room, the blaze too much of a risk for the demons to bother attempting to pass. But it also meant that now the boys were trapped within their room, no escape to be had.

Small screams of terror escaped them both as the back of their closet opened, a hidden door pulling away and revealing a figure crouched there, holding out a hand towards his children. Nero and V threw themselves into Vergil's arms, their trembling bodies shaking with relief. Daddy was here now, he would make the demons go away; they were safe now. But Mummy.....Mummy was gone.

Their eyes were filled with sadness, and Vergil knew. He knew that his wife had died protecting their children, much as his mother had done for him. But this time, this time Vergil would not let one of his children be left behind; he would not allow them to grow to hate each other. He would save them both, and raise them well – it is what his wife would have wanted for them.

He gathered them both up into his arms, holding them tightly, but knowing that they would have to leave quickly. Nero offered to walk, knowing that his Daddy could not carry them both – needing a free hand to be able to wield his sword – and V had always been the more frail of the two, complications during their birth leaving him weakened.

Vergil tucked V into his side, drawing the Yamato in his hand, Nero clutching at V's hand so that he would not be separated. Together, all three stepped out of the hidden area, stalking quietly through the darkened halls, listening for the sounds of demons. Luckily, most had left already, the lack of humans to hunt and the fire rapidly engulfing the house, making an unpalatable location to linger.

Finally the trio made it out onto the front lawn, Vergil hurrying them towards the still running car. He tucked the children into the back securely, watching as they pressed together closely – any petty rivalries that they had held, vanished in the harsh realities of loss and pain. At least this time, things would turn out differently; this time Vergil had made sure that history did not repeat itself, once again.


	22. Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prequel to 'Pinned Down'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied rape  
Please avoid if this affects you

Nero had dragged V out to dance and have fun, he had said. And for Nero, he was dancing and having fun. But V did not care for dancing, not this sort at least, if you could even consider dry humping and grinding against random strangers as dancing.

His head throbbed with the beat of the music, the bass pounding through his body making his heart feel weak. V didn't much care for music so loud that it even drowned out his own thoughts, and the amount of times he had been hit on in the last ten minutes was getting tiresome.

But Nero had wanted to come out, wanted to let loose and have a good time, and V just could say no to Nero; not when he so rarely asked for anything. So here they were, in a club, having 'fun'. At least, V thought ruefully, there was always alcohol to dull his senses. Perhaps if he drank enough, he might even shed enough of his inhibitions to get out there to dance with Nero.

V's eyes tracked the dance floor, momentarily having lost track of his boyfriend, and frowning when he finally located him. Nero was sandwiched between two very attractive people; a handsome, muscular man holding him by the hips from behind, and a well endowed female grinding against his front. V knew that it was only dancing, knew that Nero didn't mean anything by letting these two strangers get so close to him, and scoffed at himself.

He wasn't usually a jealous type of person – he knew that he could trust Nero not to take things too far – but that didn't mean he liked to see things like that. With a scowl, V turned from the dance floor and back towards the bar, gaining the attention of a few males sitting either side of him. They smiled and offered their greetings, and a small petty part of V decided that he wouldn't turn down their light flirtations, and that he would indulge himself for once. It's not like light flirting was any worse than grinding up against another person, he wouldn't even be touching them.

So he smiled and chatted with them, sipping away at his drink all the while. He turned from person to person, turning from left to right as they tried to gain his attention. V wasn't even sure when they had ordered him another drink, but he had accepted it gratefully, the cool liquid slipping past his parched lips easily.

It being his fourth or fifth drink by this point, V didn't realise just how closely the men were now watching him. He didn't realise that the light headedness that he was starting to feel was a little odd, that drunkenness should not have set in quite that fast. But he was also too busy ignoring Nero to much care for anything besides making his boyfriend jealous. He could see how the other man was watching him from the dance floor, could see how he kept gesturing for V to join him there. V make eye contact with him then, shaking his head, and turning decisively away from him. V didn't see Nero shrug, turning away himself, miffed at his boyfriend's behaviour.

So Nero didn't see when V stumbled to his feet, swaying where he stood, and excusing himself to go to the bathroom. He didn't see the three men that had been flirting with him rise also, following after the stumbling man. And he especially didn't see them drag V's unconscious body towards the back rooms, his form draped haphazardly over one of their shoulders.

V stumbled into the bathroom, feeling dizzy and sick to his stomach. This, this didn't feel right. This seemed like it was more that just drunkenness, and V was starting to feel worried. He tried to pull his phone out of his pocket, hands coming up empty, and realised that he had left in at home. He hadn't thought that he would need it, not if he was out with Nero already. There weren't a lot of other people that tried calling him, and anyone that texted knew that he was slow to reply.

V stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection showing that he was looking much too pale, his vision starting to swim the longer he stood. A disturbance at the door drew his attention, the three men from before entering the bathroom. No, no this wasn't right, V thought to himself, trying to back away from their advances. He looked towards the toilet stalls, but there was no one in here to hear if he cried out for help, and his trembling legs would not make it to a stall in time to lock himself in before one of them managed to catch him.

Spots danced across V's vision then, cotton filling his head and sending him crashing to his knees. He could feel himself being lifted then, could feel the touch of strange hands running over his body, even as their cruel laughter filled his ears. His body was moving without his say so, one of them having slung him over their shoulder and carrying him. His body felt weak, even as he tried to kick out at them, his struggles doing naught to hinder them.

It didn't make a difference in the end, V lost consciousness, and when he awoke the nightmare would really begin.


	23. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of 'Scars'

Nero was losing his mind.

Ever since he had ripped the shell of V from his father, and the other man had shattered into ash within his hands, Nero could have sworn that sometimes from the corner of his eye, he could see the other man standing there, staring at him. But when he turned, the image would disappear as though it were never there to begin with.

The first time Nero had thought he had caught sight of V, he had whirled around, happiness filling his being. He had thought that V had been returned to him, that they had been given a second chance; that he hadn't killed the other man in his rash desire to see him once again. But when he had turned, the space where he thought V should be was empty.

Tears had fallen then, along with his heart, the cracks that had only just started to heal, breaking open once more. He had gone to Kyrie then, and cried in her arms, her soothing words doing little to calm him, but were appreciated all the same.

If he had been able to, Nero would have sought out Dante for advice on whether or not V was actually there – perhaps even having become a spirit – but the older man still refused to speak with him. In fact, Dante did very little demon hunting anymore, his time being taken up with caring for Vergil. The other man was incapable of caring for himself now, more often than not he could be found staring off into space, fingers twitching randomly as though trying to clutch his sword.

Nero had tried reaching out to the other man, had tried apologising for his mistake, but in the end, it had been one loss too many for Dante, and Nero had ended up bearing the brunt of all of the anger and disappointment that had been building up inside of him. In the end, their relationship had fractured, and Dante had been uninterested in rekindling it. Disheartened, Nero had finally given up on him, though he did try to sneak in to see Vergil sometimes, always apologising profusely as Vergil stared blankly back at him with dull eyes.

But that left him with the problem of seeing V everywhere he went, with no knowledge of how to deal with the hallucination. For months after the incident, Nero had seen V every night in his dreams, the other man berating him for his foolishness; yelling and screaming as he crumbled to ash as Nero tried to put the pieces of him back together again.

He wondered sometimes, if this was his punishment; if V was punishing Nero for not listening, for being greedy. But as time passed and V's presence beside him grew, unseen but keenly felt, Nero started to wonder if that were true.

Nero learnt not to turn when he saw V's spectre standing beside him, learnt to try to seek out his vision from the corner of his eye instead. Nero could swear, that sometimes if he moved his hand back, that he could feel V's cool fingers twine with his own, squeezing gently. These moments started to become more frequent; when lying in bed, Nero could feel V's body pressed up against his own, could feel the cool weightless press of V leant against his back as he worked on the van with Nico.

Nico and Kyrie started to grow worried. They watched as Nero spoke to a man that was no longer there, as he reached out to grasp a hand that did not exist. They had to see Nero lie in bed for hours at a time, smile upon his weary face, his body positioned as though he were holding someone close. Fear filled them as Nero started to withdraw from them, his mind so lost in his hallucinations, that he could no longer determine reality from dreams.

Nero didn't know of their worry, hardly even remembered that they existed sometimes. How could he, when he had the man that he loved back in his arms once again? How could he care for things like food or sleep, when V was touching him so gently? He would follow V to the ends of the earth – anything so that he would never be parted from him again.

He was out one day on a hunt – Trish and Lady still spoke to him, though he could tell neither really knew what to make of the situation – when he had caught sight of V standing upon the edge of the road. He killed the demons surrounding him, hurrying towards the man, hoping and praying with all of his being that V would not disappear before his eyes.

For the first time though, Nero managed to stand beside V, managed to look straight at the other man, a smile full of love breaking out across his face. V returned the smile happily, beckoning Nero to come closer, even as he danced away from him playfully. Nero had let out a bark of laughter, leaping forwards to try to catch V in his arms. He didn't realise when he stepped closer to the edge, didn't realise when his next jump took him over it – not when he had finally managed to catch V within his arms.

Trish and Lady screamed out his name as they saw Nero leap off the road, rushing over to witness his body crash against the ground, body crushed from the impact. Clambering down as quickly as possible, the two women stared down at the broken form before them.

No matter how broken and bloody his body appeared to be, neither could un-see the smile Nero had upon his face, nor the way his arms were circled, as though he held another within their embrace. Nico and Kyrie had told them about the hallucinations that Nero had been suffering, but neither woman had thought that they had become this bad, and in the end, they had killed him.

Looking down at Nero's peaceful face, Trish leant forwards, gently closing Nero's eyes, a benediction upon her lips.

“Rest my little wanderers. Your journey here is done, now leave this place and be happy together.”


	24. Bleeding Out

Vergil stared in shock as a body was pushed from his own, the force of the Yamato ripping them from himself. He turned around, pulling the sword from his sternum, to stare at the young man lying upon the ground before him.

The man was lithe, long and thin and nothing at all like Vergil's own muscular build. His hair was the same snowy white, though it fell in soft waves down to bony shoulders, instead of the neat style that Vergil preferred. His eyes were closed, gasping breaths desperately being drawn in, and his thin hands clutched at his sternum so tightly his fingers had turned white.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vergil noticed shadows creeping forwards towards the downed figure, saw how they touched his skin before withdrawing and disappearing as though they had never been there.

And still, Vergil wondered just what was going on. He was meant to have removed his humanity from himself, was meant to have become more powerful after shedding his supposed weakness. But he didn't feel any stronger, not really, and he couldn't work out just who this pale man before him was.

Staring down at him, Vergil finally noticed the dark puddle forming beneath the man, traced the crimson lines back up his sides to the place where his hands were clasped. Kneeling upon the floor, taking care to avoid the blood, Vergil tugged the pale hands away from his chest easily, seeing the stab wound there, bleeding out.

The touch of skin upon skin sent a shiver of recognition throughout Vergil's body. This man....this man whom he could not recognise was the same as him – was this man part of him? Was this man the humanity he had cut from himself? Why did he look so very different to himself? Was it because Vergil himself had always tried to distance himself from it? Or because he never really thought himself to be human, and so it had become someone that even he himself could not recognise?

Vergil did not have the answers to those questions, but crouching here, above this man while he bled, something stirred within Vergil. He was no stranger to blood and death, did not shy away nor fear either; but something about the thought of this man dying.....

Throwing himself forwards closer, Vergil pressed down firmly upon the wound. He hadn't meant to kill his humanity, not really. He just hadn't wanted to be burdened by it anymore. He had wanted power, and had been willing to sacrifice anything to get it; but now that he saw the price of such ambition, Vergil trembled in fear. It was too high a price to pay, he realised. He needed this man.

He tugged him into his arms, shaking as he felt just how light and insubstantial the other was – how starved of life and attention he had been. Green eyes cracked open to look up at him, confusion filling the orbs, even as they roamed over his all too familiar face. Vergil sobbed then; those eyes, he knew those eyes. They had belonged to someone long ago from his past, someone that Vergil just could not forget. The memory of whom Vergil had tucked away into the dark recesses of his mind, like a dirty secret. And for this man to have those eyes! Vergil had cared for them, cared too much to stay and doom them to a life of blood and death, and so he had left them behind without a backwards glance.

A shaking hand reached up to touch his face then, pale fingers tracing over the dry cracks that covered his skin, a small smile breaking across pouted lips. Vergil returned the smile, his hardened heart finally starting to soften, his humanity brought to beautiful life before his very eyes, able to break through the barriers that he had erected to protect himself.

Vergil began to wonder just what sort of life he could live if he ran away now with this man, if he abandoned the plans that had been brewing in his head for seeming eternity, and just soak in the warmth and love that this man seemed to radiate. Maybe he could even visit Dante with him, though Vergil would have to keep Dante's wandering hands off of him, he would definitely be an ice breaker. And Dante would probably, _probably_, be less likely to attack him on sight if he was not alone. Vergil...had missed his brother, no matter how much he had thought that he had hated him sometimes; all he had really wanted was for Dante to just _stop and listen and help him_!

A wider smile tugged at Vergil's lips then, the feeling strange to him, as he imagined just how much his life would change now. This man that he held within his arms, he had given him back a part of himself that Vergil hadn't even known he had lost. Warmth filled him now, emotions and memories flooding his mind. He winced slightly when he realised that he would have to apologise to the boy whose arm he tore off, but he would do it all with this man standing by his side.

The stranger's hand slipped from Vergil's face then, pulling him out of his musing. His pale face had turned ashen, his brows furrowed in pain. Vergil's hand was pressed against the wound, and blood pumped sluggishly past the barrier still. His rasping breaths were starting to slow, the rattle in his chest echoing in the silence of the ruined mansion.

Fear filled Vergil then. He couldn't lose this man now, not yet, not _ever_; not now that he had just gotten him back. He hadn't meant to kill him, had only meant to remove him from himself; but Vergil had not realised that the human body could not withstand being stabbed through with a sword, and torn in twain from itself.

Vergil clutched the man to his chest tighter, willing the other man to return to him if he could not survive out here on his own. He would remember that he had existed, he would remember that he was there, he would be a better man now, but only if he did not leave him now.

The body within his arms started crumbling, the tighter Vergil tried to hold onto him, the more of him broke off and drifted away, until all he held was handfuls of pale ash. At the very end, calm, accepting green eyes stared sadly into his own tear filled blue.

The warmth that Vergil had felt drained from his body, his emotions and feelings faded as though they had never been. His crouched form started to twist and warp, his body changing to that which he had once wanted, before he had known the joy of his own mind. A scream tore from his mouth, his body changing, tearing itself apart and reforming.

A demon stood where Vergil once crouched, and a demon he would forever remain. There was no turning back into Vergil now, he too had died when his humanity had faded from existence, and the demon was all that was left inside of him.

The demon turned to stalk away, ignoring the sword lying upon the ground and the location of his transformation, for to him, both meant nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V doesn't have a name in this one, simply because he never gets the chance to give himself one.


	25. Secret Injury

Nero and V were both tired and irritable, neither man wishing to continue on their journey, but needing to keep moving so they could find somewhere safe to spend a few hours resting. Right now, their current location was more than likely to get them ambushed if they stopped, and so they trudged on.

Nero was annoyed. He couldn't believe that he had to be stuck with this strange guy, with all of his weird ass magic shit, and now he was hanging back and slowing them down.

“Keep up.” He growled over his shoulder, wishing more than anything that he could just leave him behind. But Nero knew that if V died out here, there would be no pay for him or Dante, so he had better keep him alive.

“Of course.”

V's voice was raspy, his throat aching at the constant commands he had to keep up during battle, and if Nero had cared even the slightest, he might have been worried about just how weak his voice came out. But Nero was far too deep within his own problems that he didn't even give the summoner another thought.

They pushed through, trying to skirt around easily avoidable fights, much to Nero's disgust, but that didn't mean there weren't still too many fights for their tired bodies to handle. Their fighting became sloppier, more mistakes occurring and costing them both in blood. Nero could feel the sluggish trickle of blood running from his wounds, and he couldn't help but scoff at V maintaining a safe distance from the demons themselves.

So distracted with his own fight, Nero didn't see when V became surrounded by demons, going down briefly before Shadow burst through the pack and scattered them. Griffon pulled V from the ground, flying him to safety, and he was once again a safe distance away when Nero caught sight of him once more. He could see that V had a hand wrapped around his own waist, but thought nothing of it, after all, V did some pretty weird moves while he fought.

The fight finally over, Nero panted tiredly while resting his hands upon his knees. He could hear the scuff of V's sandals treading over the uneven ground, a snort of derision leaving him as he watched him stumble. Of course he didn't hit the ground though, that wildcat of his appearing under his hand to help steady him, the bird hovering worriedly overhead.

Pulling himself upright once more, Nero jerked his head towards the direction he decided to head, not even waiting to make sure that V was following behind him. As he walked, the sound of sandals slapping against the ground started to grow fainter and fainter, and he turned with frustration.

V was lagging behind him, stumbling almost drunkenly as he walked, the wildcat and bird doing their best to keep their summoner on his feet. Nero cursed, rushing back to grab a hold of V just before he hit the ground, arm snaking around his waist to support him. V muffled a groan against Nero's shoulder, and staggered against the slightly shorter man.

“Let's head over to the river,” Nero suggested. “We can clean up and rest there; demon's don't seem to like the water that much.”

Nero grew slightly concerned as V's head lolled to the side, not a single word passing his lips, and hurried them as quickly as V could shuffle to a spot he picked at random. Once there, he sat V down on one of the big flat rocks flanking the river edge, withdrawing his supporting arm and letting Shadow take over once more.

He frowned down at the stickiness on his hand, alarm racing through him as he realised it was coated in blood. Eyes scanning V's slumped form with urgency, trying to locate the origin of the blood. His gaze stopped on V's side, his coat shining wetly in the dying sunlight, a slash in the leather revealing a deep gash on his side.

“Shit, V.” Nero tried to rouse the wounded man from his stupor. “Hells, when did this even happen?” He mumbled to himself.

“Last fight,” Griffon's croak surprised Nero, causing him to jump and press harder against V's side than he had meant to. “We got surrounded for a bit, and we got him out, but....” He gestured towards, V's side.

“Idiot. Why didn't he just tell me he was injured?” Nero groused, pulling at the strings of V's coat, trying to get a better look.

Neither Griffon nor Shadow responded to Nero, but the looks they threw him spoke volumes.

“Ok yeah fine, I'd have bitched at him for holding us back.” Nero admitted shamefacedly. “But that doesn't mean I'd have let him keep the injury a secret and risk making it worse.”

Nero had finally managed to get V out of his coat, pulling gauze and healing creams from his bag, and carefully cleaning the gash. He watched intently as the gash slowly knitted itself together, leaving a thin red scar as the only evidence it had been there. He then wet some cloth with his water bottle, cleaning the blood off of V's pale, marked skin, only pulling away as V started to stir.

V opened his heavy eyes, his mind hazy and confused. He couldn't quite work out where he was, nor why the pain he had been in had disappeared. Nero hovered over him, and V let out a little gasp of shock, dislodging himself from resting upon Shadow, and going tumbling to the ground.

“Careful, I just healed you and I don't want that to go to waste.” Nero spoke, offering V a hand up.

V stared at the hand warily, wondering if Nero were angry at him for slowing them down like this, but the other man only wore a slightly exasperated look, tempered with something softer.

“I....you healed me?” V asked shyly. Nero nodded wordlessly. “My thanks, and I apologise for delaying us further.”

“Yeah you're welcome,” Nero rubbed his hand over the back of his head, chagrin clear upon his features. “Don't....Look, don't hide it when you get hurt ok? We might not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but you shouldn't have to keep your wounds a secret just because I'm an impatient ass ok?”

V had nodded agreeably, and things between them had become softer, less harsh words and cold stares. They didn't become great friends after the incident, though they had laid a shaky foundation for them to build upon. It was just a pity that they could never find out just what sort of relationship it could have developed into, the fight with Urizen occurring much too soon for either man.


	26. Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of 'Pinned Down' and 'Laced Drink'

The night at the club had put a wedge between Nero and V; Nero unable to understand why V passed out, and V unwilling to share. Nero knew something must have happened, even had a dark feeling that he might be able to guess, but without V telling him, there just wasn't much he could do besides give the other man space.

That space unfortunately meant that V withdrew into himself. It meant that he no longer welcomed Nero's touch, shying away whenever he reached out, and anything more intimate sent V into a panic. The pieces were all adding up in Nero's mind, but before he could confirm his suspicions, everything fell apart.

They had been out to buy groceries that day, V hovering just to the side of Nero; both seeking protection from the perceived gazes upon his person, but also trying to put as much distance between them so as make sure they did not accidentally touch. Nero had been trying to ignore the hurt he felt every time V shied away from him, but it was taking it's toll on their relationship.

He had turned his head to make sure that V was still following, when he bumped into another person. Nero had turned around and apologised with a smile, the dark haired man before him accepting it graciously, before the look on his face had turned lecherous and mocking. Nero followed his gaze, eyes narrowing as they saw the man was staring at V – V who had turned sickly pale at the man looking at him.

Nero went to tell the man to back off, to stop looking at V that way, but before he could even open his mouth, the man brushed past him and made a beeline for V. He threw his arm around the other man, drawing him close within his hold, his smile changing into something darker that sent shivers down V's spine. Nero had thought the other man would say something to V, but instead he turned to Nero.

“So you Nero?” Nero glared at the man, not liking his tone – or anything else about him. “Your buddy here tell you about me? About the great time he gave us at the club last time?”

Nero's eyes widened in shock. What? What was this man saying? Nero turned towards V, his head turned away in shock and fear, both his eyes and teeth clenched tightly together. The other man didn't wait for Nero to respond, instead bringing out his phone.

If Nero had thought that V looked pale before, it was nothing to the stark whiteness of his face now.

“Look at this fantastic little keepsake we took? Ah doesn't he look so good just covered in come, and taking our cocks s.....”

Whatever the other man had been going to say was lost as Nero leapt forwards, fist clenched, and punched him. The satisfying crack of bone beneath his fist filled Nero with feral glee, though there was nothing that would ever be a fitting punishment for scum such as this man.

The man stumbled back, his hold on V loosening. V hurried from his side, tucking himself behind Nero's enraged bulk, and could help but feel disgusted with himself. He should have been strong enough to break free from that man's hold; should be strong enough now to be able to fight back. But fear and shame froze his blood in his veins, terror that Nero would finally find out what had happened to him, and leave him, filling his very being.

People in the street stopped to stare at the beating Nero was giving to the man, a few even trying to step in to pull him away to no avail. Eventually the police were called and they finally managed to pull Nero off.

Nero's fists were split and covered in blood, the other man having long fallen unconscious. An ambulance arrived to take him away, and Nero spat after the vehicle thinking that he should have been left there to rot.

Cuffs were snapped around Nero's wrists, the police hauling him towards their car, as he struggled against their hold. He only settled when he noticed V being wrapped carefully in a shock blanket and led towards another of their cars. Down at the station, the police spoke to both men, holding them in different rooms to get the whole story out of them.

V was sat down at an empty table, a cup of sweet tea offered to him, which he shakily accepted. His body shook further as the 'vicitm's' phone was placed down upon the table before him, the video of his assault playing on the cracked screen. The whole story came tumbling out, V's voice breaking as tears ran down his face. They asked him why he hadn't reported them, and V had turned his eyes away, feeling ashamed and humiliated, thinking that it had been his fault for flirting with them in the first place.

It was then, that something within V, that he had been holding onto so tightly, had finally snapped. Were they trying to blame him for his assault? Were they saying that a little innocent flirtation meant that he had deserved to be drugged and raped? His fists clenched below the table, and his body trembled again in rage and fear. They dared to give reason to his rapists? They dared to call into question his unwillingness to be party to his assault, even with the hideous filmed evidence right before them?

Later, Nero would tell V that he could hear the sound of his yelling from two rooms away. He could see the looks of chagrin upon the faces of the officers questioning him, and see the way the females in the room immediately felt the impact of his words – how they hit a little too close to home for some of them. V would be embarrassed at his loss of composure, but he couldn't bring himself to feel regret, no matter the consequences.

It was several hours later the pair were released, Nero having been fined, though there were a few obstinate officers who wanted him to suffer a harsher punishment. As they walked out of the station, a few people patted Nero on the back, smiling approvingly at him, and sending him winks as they left. They were told that with the video evidence, they would hopefully be able to track down the other two people, and they warned the pair that they would probably have to come in to testify against them.

V didn't really want to; didn't want to face those men again, or to have to relive those moments again and again as a judge and lawyers tried to tear him and his ordeal apart. But V also didn't want anyone else to go through what he had, he didn't want them to blame themselves, to feel guilt over their assault. He wanted these bastards off the street and locked up, he wanted to _kill_ them for taking what they had from him.....but he would settle for them rotting in jail.

When they arrived home, V finally confessed to Nero what had happened, cringing away as though expecting Nero to be angry with him. Instead Nero had held V gently, whispering reassurances to the other man. Many tears were shed by them both, but that night, the healing could finally begin. V toyed with the little card that he had been handed as he left the station, the name of a therapist that dealt with these sorts of situations, written upon the surface. Nero watched him quietly, knowing that it would be for the best if V were to call them, to speak with someone that could help him through this trauma, but he wasn't going to push V.

Green eyes were suddenly filled with resolve, V lifting his gaze to stare at Nero.

“I'm going to call them tomorrow.” Nero nodded, relieved. “I....I think I need the help, and I don't want the issues from this to come between us.”

“I'm glad V,” Nero spoke softly. “And no matter what, don't forget that I'll always love you ok?”

V clutched at Nero tightly, finally being able to sink into his hold once more, without guilt and fear overwhelming him.


	27. Abandoned

Vergil had been playing outside on his rocking horse when the demons came. He could hear their howls long before he caught sight of them, the sight of his mother running back inside the house to find Dante, filling him with confusion.

Why hadn't she come to Vergil first? Had she not known that he was out here with her? Did...did she not care?

No. No that couldn't possibly be right. It was probably because she knew that Vergil was clever enough to hide until she found him, but Dante was more likely to go running head first into the horde. So that's what Vergil did; he hid himself, waiting patiently for his mother to come back outside for him and bring him to safety also.

He curled into a ball, clutching his legs close to his chest as he could hear the demons growing closer and closer, and yet still his mother did not call for him; did not come to find him. Fearfully, Vergil wondered if perhaps she just could not find him, not willing to call out and risk attracting the attention of the demons, so he carefully poked his head out of his hiding place.

Flames filled his vision; their house ablaze, and still no sight of either Dante or his mother. Vergil withdrew back into his hiding place, fear gnawing at him. He buried his head against his knees, his arms rising up to cover his ears, trying to block out the screams and howls of the demons.

It wasn't until night had fallen and the sounds had faded that Vergil crept from his hiding place. He tip toed towards their house, fire having gutted it and leaving it in a crumbling mess, searching for signs of Dante or his mother. He went from room to room, dreading seeing their bodies lying dead upon the floor, but he found nothing. Not a single trace of either.

Anger started filling Vergil then, and fear, though he ignored that feeling as best he could. He felt anger at Dante for taking their mother and fleeing, for leaving him here on his own. He felt anger and a terrible sadness for his mother, believing that she had abandoned him to the demons. Had she really ever loved him, if she could so easily leave him behind like this? Vergil had always known that Dante was the more favoured child, but to have it slapped in his face like this.....

Vergil stood in the wreckage of the place he had once called home, hatred overtaking any softer feelings that he might have once possessed. He would not allow himself to be so reliant on another person again; would not allow them the chance to betray him and hurt him like this. Vergil would become stronger, would stand on his own two feet. He would prove that he was the better man, and that his mother had made a terrible mistake in leaving him behind.

Mark his words, he would have his revenge.

The young boy turned from the house, not a single look thrown over his shoulder as he left, never to return until many, many years later.


	28. Ransom

Being the head of a well known and respected Mafia group, Nero had not expected someone to be stupid enough to not only break into his own home, but to kidnap and ransom his lover back to him. But that is exactly what had happened.

Nero had been away for a few days on business, his legitimate holdings having needed his attention, and that is when the offenders had struck. In the dead of night, they had infiltrated his house; a traitor in their ranks having informed them when and where V would be at that time, and had taken the other man.

They had not expected the resistance that he had put up though, Nero having returned home to rotting bodies strewn across his bedroom floor, blood soaked into the plush carpet. Pride had filled Nero then, as even though V had been taken, he had fought back and managed to kill at least three of his attackers. Nero had been reluctant to teach V how to fight, but had been convinced that it could one day be vital to his survival. And how right that had proved to be.

A ransom note had arrived with a messenger on the day that Nero had returned, the lackey not surviving the encounter with the enraged Don. The letter demanded that Nero meet them at a specified location – alone, naturally – and bring with him a suitcase filled with ten million dollars.

Nero had scoffed at the amount, feeling that V was worth much more than that, before putting his consigliere to work planning out their next movements. Nero himself tracked down the traitor in their midst, the half witted idiot not having the brains to flee when he had had the chance. After Nero had caught up to him, he learnt without a doubt, that crossing Nero Sparda was a terrible life choice. Unfortunately for him – or fortunately, depending on who you asked – the man didn't have long to ruminate upon this life lesson, as once his treachery was revealed, his life was forfeit.

It was just closing in on midnight when Nero stepped out of his car, his internal scoff of contempt and rolling of his eyes at the cliché-ness of the location chosen – the docks, of fucking course it was, could they not have have come up with a more original idea? – hidden by the dark, silence of the night. He pulled the full briefcase out of the car grumpily, having wasted a few hours of an underlings' time trying to find a case big enough to carry the notes held within.

As soon as Nero entered the warehouse, he was stopped by a masked man. He was frisked clumsily, the man not even managing to catch the unhidden gun Nero had strapped to his side, let alone the hidden blades he had. Frustration started to fill Nero then, making him wonder just how such a useless group had managed to infiltrate his home and take his lover; but well, sometimes sheer dumb luck works.

Nero was then led into the main area of the warehouse, the sight of V cuffed to a metal chair, roughed up, causing anger to flare within his chest. Behind V, gun aimed towards his lover's temple, stood a familiar man; one who Nero had turned down for a partnership previously, his stupidity and blood lust overruling common sense and proper Mafia practices. Nero might be a hardened Mafia Don, but he had standards.

V eyed Nero warily, not trusting his seeming compliance like the other men there. They snickered and mocked Nero as he stepped forwards, handing the briefcase over to someone who took it over to their leader, who shook the case to make sure that there was nothing but notes stashed inside. The smirk on his face said it all – he thought he had won.

“You've got what you wanted, now hand over my lover.” Nero growled.

“Let's not be so hasty now,” the man replied cockily. “I have to check that all of the money is in here don't I?”

He motioned for another of his men to approach, gun still pressed against V's head, and gestured for him to open the case. His eyes flickered downwards, widening in shock as he saw what was held within. Instead of the stacks of cash he had been expecting to see, there were neatly wrapped notes – each with the same message written across the pristine surface.

_Fuck You._

Wide eyes darted up to stare at Nero in shock, a bullet burying itself between them moments later.

Nero stood across from them, smoking gun still aimed at the man; watching as he finally crumpled to the floor. Before the rest of the men surrounding Nero could even think to retaliate, gunshots rang out from the shadows, his own men coming in to help clean up the mess. Nero hurried towards where V still sat, wincing slightly at the look of annoyance upon the other man's face.

“I know, I know! I'm sorry ok?” Nero fell to his knees beside V, picking quickly at the cuffs and begging for forgiveness.

“I suppose I can forgive you just this once, since you came all the way out here to rescue me.” V conceded. “But Nero, you know how much I hate getting blood stains out of my clothes! And now I have blood and all of these....bits on me.”

“I'll pay for the crew to send them to the cleaners, ok?” Nero offered.

“I suppose that will be fine.” V responded, rubbing at his newly freed wrists gingerly. “Now come here and give me a kiss.”

Nero leant forwards and captured V's dry, chapped lips with his own, relief filling him. This wouldn't be the last time someone was foolish enough to try to take V from him, but they would soon learn that the Sparda family was not to be messed with – and that included V, no matter if he was officially part of the 'family' or not.


	29. Beaten

V stared in shock as Dante laid the final blow upon Urizen, sending the demon staggering and beaten to the ground.

Dante had beaten him. Urizen. The strongest part of himself, not burdened by the weakness of his humanity. And yet still, it had not been enough to defeat the younger twin. The fight had been so one-sided that V could not imagine that Urizen had even been trying; that he had underestimated his opponent and was now paying the price. Even V – _weak, useless, frail_ – had gotten closer to killing Dante than Urizen had. If he had let that sword drop even a few centimetres to the side....

But what was even the point in fighting anymore? Did V even want to continue this battle? No. But Urizen did. Vergil did. They wanted to be stronger, they wanted _power_, that dark insidious feeling of superiority over those they deemed lesser.

Dante stepped aside as V moved forwards, steps slow and deliberate. Even as his body failed him, V looked confident and full of the power that his whole craved with his entire being. Stepping backwards to stand beside Nero, Dante could almost imagine the outline of another man surrounding V. But that was impossible, no man can spilt himself, there was just no way...

But then again then was no way that someone other than his brother could give him so much trouble in whatever form he took; so perhaps it wasn't so impossible.

V climbed a top of Urizen, green gaze calmly taking in the gleaming golden eyes filled with wrath and chagrin. The demon king laid beneath him broken, and V couldn't help but think that at least they shared this much – both falling apart, neither able to survive without the other, though Urizen would argue the point relentlessly, he too laid defeated, did he not?

V was claiming this victory as his own, though if he really could do that when he had not even joined the battle, he did not know, nor care. V had worked with what he had been dealt, and no one had said that he could not acquire help from others, no matter how much a part of him had screamed at needing to ask.

But they had always lost to Dante, together, apart, there was no time that V could remember when he had bested the other. Why was he stronger? Was it the love of their mother that had strengthened him? Was it the blessings of their father, had he preferred Dante to Vergil? Was it all the pizza he ate? What?

But....V was so tired. He didn't care for the fight, the battle, he just wanted to fade back into himself. Wanted to rest; for the fight to finally be over. The fight for life, the fight for acknowledgement, the fight for the world. V just wanted it all to end now.

There were no words spoken between V and Urizen, the same tiredness that V felt, starting to reflect in those golden eyes, and V knew; Urizen was tired too.

His cane fell with a flash of brilliant light, their broken bodies and torn souls joining together once more, leaving Vergil standing there whole once more. If Dante expected a fight he was sadly disappointed. The tiredness that his separated parts had felt, bled into Vergil's being, and he just wanted to rest.

Wanted a safe place to rest his head at night, to recover from his torture.

He threw his sword to the side and strode towards Dante, alarming the other man. Dante raised his sword as Vergil approached, staring in shock as his brother pushed the blade aside, and collapsed into his arms. Soft sobs tore themselves from Vergil's throat, and with hesitant hands, Dante embraced his brother for the first time since their childhood, elation filling him. Yes Dante may have won all of their fights, but this felt more like a victory than any other battle he had fought before.

Right here and now, Dante had earned his brother back.


	30. Numb

Nero walked dazedly from the hospital, body aching and mind numb. It was a stark contrast to the jovial mode that had filled the air earlier that day.

Nero turned to the man beside him, smiling happily at V as they walked along the beach. They had spent the day together, celebrating their third anniversary wandering the docks and markets, sharing platters of seafood and sipping at cool drinks.

Nero was excited for the next part of the evening, knowing that V had no idea just what was about to happen. He was leading the in a round-a-bout way towards his desired destination, where his friends had spent most of the afternoon setting the scene for Nero – not for free though, he had a feeling they would be cashing in on the favours he owed them pretty soon – and before they reached the spot, Nero stopped them both, confusing V.

“Nero?” V asked in confusion, wondering why they had stopped in the middle of nowhere.

Nero pulled a blindfold from his pocket, desperately trying to shove the other thing contained within his pocket back inside, turning a hopeful look towards V.

“I have one last surprise for you today V, so please.....do you trust me?”

“With all that I am.” V responded instantly, soft smile breaking out upon his face. “But you've spoiled me so much already Nero, it really wasn't necessary to go to all of this trouble.”

“I know Baby, but I wanted to.” V seemed to accept Nero's answer, turning around and allowing him to fasten the blindfold over his eyes.

Nero took V's hand into his own once more, and carefully led him towards the surprise. Lifting a hand to his lips to ask for quiet, Nero drew them to a halt, lifting the blindfold gently from V's eyes.

“Surprise!”

V jumped in shock and his eyes flew open, at the shout, his widened green eyes taking in the sight of all of their friends and family standing under a gazebo on the beach, decorations strewn around the area, food and drinks overflowing on several tables.

He turned towards Nero, confusion painted across his face, though no less happy for the surprise regardless.

“But, I mean...I don't understand why?” V managed to utter.

He stared in shock as Nero stood before him, withdrawing a small velvet box from his pocket and lowering himself to one knee before him. V's hand rose to cover his mouth, his eyes darting to take in the expectant looks upon the faces of those that were sharing in this moment with them. V's eyes were drawn back to Nero, who had opened the box in his hands now, showing a beautiful ring of silver and black, staring up at him with hope filling his blue eyes.

“V...from the moment I met you, I knew that you were the one for me. It didn't matter that I couldn't manage to gather the courage up to even ask you on a date for months, and it didn't matter that even when I finally gathered the courage to do so, I ended up putting myself into the hospital with a broken leg due to my stupidity. I knew that you were the one for me, that you would know me inside and out, and that I would spend the rest of my days working to make you happy.”

Nero drew in a shaky breath, fingers trembling around the box he held. He stared up into V's beloved green eyes, noticing the moisture that had started to gather in the corners. He drew in a steadying breath, and continued.

“I am asking to today, with our friends and family as witness, to join your life with mine and do me the honour of becoming my husband. V...will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down V's face, and words were far beyond his capabilities at this moment, but the smile that split his face and the joyful nodding was all the answer Nero needed. With a shout of joy, Nero leapt to his feet, pulling the ring from it's box and slipping it onto V's finger, drawing in the other man for a tender kiss. The cheers from the gathered crowd, broke them from their kiss, smiles of happiness painted across both of their faces as they turned to accept offers of congratulations and good will.

They spent the remained of the night dancing and talking with their friends, feeding little bites of food to each other, and laughing freely. It had gotten late, and they were being waved off by everyone, told not to worry about the clean up and to go home and enjoy themselves. V had blushed brightly at their insinuations, but Nero had grinned unrepentantly as he had replied in the affirmative.

V held Nero's hand within his own as they drove home, a little smile upon his face as he studied his ring in the dim light. Nero stopped at a red light, his gaze once more drawn towards his beautiful fiance. Nero wasn't sure just what it was he had done in his life to deserve such a man, but he was going to make sure treasured him. Their eyes met, as they waited for the light to change to green, and V leant forwards to peck Nero on the lips.

Pulling back with a little laugh, V wondered at the look upon Nero's face. The once happy smile that had spread across his face, was bathed in bright light, highlighting his look of terror. Before he even had a chance to shout out a warning, something slammed into V's side of the vehicle, sending their car spinning through the intersection. They spun crazily, horns blaring and bodies being thrown violently around.

Finally, the car came to rest in a smoking wreak, lights entering from all directions. The frantic yelling of people outside filtered hazily into Nero's dazed mind, but all he could think of was V. Nero pushed aside the inflated air-bag, trying desperately to see V, V who had blood trickling from his head.

“V?” Nero called out hoarsely. “V?!” He tried again when he received no response.

Still no response.

Nero cried out in shock as his door was wrenched open, hands trying to gently ease him from the car. He resisted their efforts, not wanting to leave V behind in the car, but finally slid out as they assured him they were getting V out also. Nero didn't even know when the fire trucks and ambulances had arrived, but he was bundled up in a shock blanket and put on a stretcher to be looked over.

The sound of metal screeching pulled his attention towards their car, and the sight of the destroyed vehicle made him want to get sick. The fire crew were prying open V's door, the metal so twisted and bent that they had had no other choice. The paramedics hovered closely behind them, waiting to tend to their patient.

Nero watched as finally the door was pull off, and they could reach V. He watched as the look upon their faces fell, and he could feel his heart stop.

No. No, V was just injured that was all. V would be fine, they would be fine. Nothing could destroy their happiness; not now, not when they had finally gotten engaged.

V's body was carefully pulled from the car and placed on another stretcher; he was hooked up to several different machines, and Nero itched to race over to him, to take him in his arms and never let him go. But he remained seated upon his stretcher, and watched as they loaded V into another ambulance. He watched as it sped away from the scene, sirens and lights blazing in the night air. He shook himself out of his stupor as the doors to his own ambulance slammed closed, a paramedic climbing in and smiling reassuringly at him.

“Where...where are they taking V?” Nero croaked, voice wrecked from the screams he no longer remembered uttering.

“V?” The paramedic asked? “Oh the other man with you? Don't worry, we're taking you to the same hospital.”

The wait that followed was torture for Nero. It took hours before he could be seen by a doctor, his wounds not being deemed as urgent. It then took another few hours before someone would finally tell him about V, apparently the person in charge that night, not acknowledging Nero as V's next of kin due to their same sex relationship.

Finally, finally Nero had been allowed in to see V; had been told the diagnosis, and he broke down. A tear filled call to his father later, and Nero collapsed beside V's bedside, clutching at the limp hand before him.

The doctor had told Nero that V had sustained significant damage in the crash, the car having been hit on his side, and that combined with V's already weakened constitution, meant that his body was not coping with the damage. In fact, already several of V's organs had begun failing, the mechanical ventilator the only thing keeping him breathing right now. He told Nero that he would have to make a decision – whether to continue V on life support, or to let him go peacefully. The doctor told Nero that V would not feel any pain; that he was pass painlessly.

Vergil ran into the room, taking in the still form of V lying upon the bed, Nero curled protectively over him. He walked to his son's side, sadness filling him. For this to happen after such a joyous day! Vergil could not even wrap his head around it all. He had left the clean up in a hurry, leaving the rest of their friends and family terrified for news; but he couldn't even think of them at the moment. Right now, he needed to be here for his son and for V, whom he had always thought of as another son.

Nero was beyond words, unable to do more than cling to his father's hand when he saw him standing there, his heartbreak stamped clearly upon his young face. Vergil knew that heartbreak, knew the pain of having the one you loved so much torn from you too soon, his mind flickering to Nero's mother and her untimely death. He knew that Nero didn't have it in him to keep V alive and suffering like this, not when there wasn't a chance for him to wake; but he also knew that Nero would never be able to be the one to tell them to stop – be the one that ended V's life, not when he had pledged just hours before to care for and love the other man.

In the end, Nero didn't have to make a choice either way. Regardless of the machines that were keeping his body alive, V's heart just could not continue, the damage and trauma to his brain too great. The heart monitor beeped frantically, causing Nero to jerk up in fear, hand slamming against the emergency call button, before it dropped to a single flat monotone note. Nurses and doctors raced into the room, hauling equipment to revive V along with them, but Vergil held up his hand to stop them.

“Don't.” His voice was soft but firm, the tremble not lessening his conviction.

The staff turned to Nero, V's next of kin to confirm the order, and with tightly closed eyes, Nero nodded his agreement. He didn't want to let V go, but even with all of these machines attached to him, V had still..... It was like he was giving Nero a sign, to let him go, not to keep him here when his soul cried out to be free. And Nero listened; he knew that V would not have wanted to become a burden to Nero like this – not that he would have ever thought him so – but Nero knew it was not what he would have wanted.

And it was time to let him go.

Nero sat stoically as they unhooked the monitors from V, finally turning off the heart monitor. The sudden silence that filled the room seemed to press down upon him, and when Vergil was the only other person left in the room, Nero broke. He climbed up on the bed beside V, cradling his limp body within his shaking arms, holding onto that last lingering trace of warmth. He cried and screamed and begged, and Vergil watched him with tears running down his face.

Nero was finally asked to leave the room, the hospital wanting to move V's body down to the morgue, and Vergil led him carefully out the front door. Sunlight started filtering over the horizon, a new day finally breaking.

A new day without V – and it would be the first of many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this started out so happy too....


	31. Recovery

It was finally over.

Vergil lay defeated upon the ground, V crouched above him tiredly, cane clutched in his trembling hands. Nero raced forwards just as he started to tip forwards, managing to lift him into his arms before he fell.

Staring down at V, Nero could help but notice with happiness, that although V was exhausted, the cracks that had been forming all over his body, seemed to have disappeared. The magic that had changed Urizen back into Vergil, seemed to have worked upon V also, healing him from his mysterious ailment.

Dante raced over then, falling to his knees beside Vergil, dodging the almost negligent swing of the Yamato to gather the older man up in his arms. Nero watched in amusement as Dante held the squirming Vergil, only to pull back and slap him over the back of the head. His scolding was unfortunately cut short though, when the Qliphoth started shaking, roots crumbling and falling, urging the quartet to make a hasty retreat.

Nico met them halfway up the tree, and god only knows just how she managed to get the van up there in the first place, and they all threw themselves in, grabbing a hold of anything screwed down to stop them from flying around in the back. Nero clutched V's still unconscious form to his chest tightly, unwilling to let him go.

He noticed Vergil staring at them both, the confused looks he kept throwing them, making Nero nervous.

“So who are the kids?” Vergil finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh yeah right,” Dante started, rubbing his neck nervously. “Verg meet Nero your spawn, and V your humanity.”

Vergil stared blankly at Nero who returned his stare silently, watching as the older man opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound managing to escape him. Whatever response he was going to make, was forestalled as they were all thrown to the ground, as the van lurched sideways suddenly, Nico's swearing voice filling the air.

It seemed as though Vergil was going to pretend that Dante had never informed him of the two younger men's identities, as he never brought up the subject again, not that Nero had a problem with that. He wasn't even sure how he felt about suddenly gaining a father, and discovering the man he had been not so subtly lusting after was part of him.

Against his will, Vergil was roped into the recovery efforts, Dante telling him that it was the least he could do after he had planted the blood sucking tree in the first place. Nero and V had helped out when they could also; the summoner having started gaining strength every day.

Hope had started to bloom within the people again, the demon infestation being dealt with by the four hunters, and money was starting to flow into the shop finally. Dante celebrated the fact that his utilities hadn't been shut off once in the last six months, though he had lamented the lack of pizza he was allowed to order now that it wasn't just him eating.

Things could not have been going better for them all; Vergil finally pulling that giant stick from his ass, and opening up a little. Nero had been spending a bit more time with the man, finally getting to know him and learning about his mother. He had also finally worked up the guts to ask V out, and to his surprise, the other man had said yes.

So it had come as a complete surprise then, that whilst out on a hunt, V had collapsed without reason. Nero had cried out as he saw the other man go down, unable to get to him to protect him. A group of demons had closed in on V, sensing the weakened prey, but before they could attack, a blazing katana had sliced through them all. Nero had breathed out a sigh of relief as he saw Vergil step forwards, hurrying towards the two men as soon as he could break free.

Vergil was just helping a confused V to sit when Nero skid to a stop beside them, a look of worry plastered across his normally stoic face.

“V...” Vergil started hesitantly. “How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“Don't be absurd, I feel fine.” V had waved off their concern.

The twin looks of disbelief on both Nero and Vergil's faces, caused V to look away.

“I've....been having a few headaches now and then. Nothing to worry about.” He relented.

“V, passing out for no reason is something to worry about.” Nero fretted. “Please won't you let me take you to the doctor? Just to make sure it's nothing bad?”

V was about to refuse, but the look of pleading upon Nero's face made him change his mind and he agreed. Nero thanked him quietly, drawing V into his shaking arms, praying that he wouldn't lose him.

“You have a brain tumour.”

Nero felt his world screech to a halt at the doctor's words. He could hear the other man speaking, and knew that he should be listening to his words, but he just could not get past those words. Brain tumour.

V sat beside him in silence, nodding along to the doctor's words, face blank of emotion. To think, he had survived being cut from Vergil and a demon infestation, had survived rejoining with Vergil...only to lose to a human ailment. He listened as the doctor told him his options, the treatments available to him, and the chances of success. V didn't know what to do, he had been fighting so hard for his entire existence, and he didn't know if he had it within him to keep going.

He told Nero as much as they left the doctor, watching as the other man fell to pieces at his honesty.

“Please, please fight this V.” Nero had sobbed, tears falling upon their joined hands. “I need you with me, I can't lose you.”

And V could not say no to Nero, and he agreed to treatment.

Months were spent in and out of hospital, his body wasting away as the treatments both healed and killed him in equal measure. In the end, he was admitted to the hospital, no longer able to remain at home, the very effort of living more than he could take.

Nero visited him whenever he could, holding him tightly and avoiding all of the wires and machines that helped keep V alive. He wept as V slept, his shuddering breaths not enough to cover the rough rasp of V's breathing.

“I'm so sorry V. So sorry that I'm selfish and asked you to do this for me. I'm so sorry that I couldn't let you go, that you're in this pain because of me.” Nero's voice broke. “I....I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to fight anymore. That if you want to go, that's ok; you can go. I'm sorry that I asked you to stay. I love you so much V, more than life itself.”

Nero shuddered as V seemed to shudder beneath his hold, body finally falling limp. The monitors blared loudly in the quiet room, but Nero ignored them all, watching as peace finally fell upon V's face, tears falling to soak into V's still body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry....


	32. Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it! Finally the month is over, hooray.
> 
> Thanks for coming along with me on this ride, and I hope you enjoy this last prompt.  
I tried to make it sort of fluffy?

Nero was tired.

He was tired and old, and had lived a long, full life just as V had wanted him to do; and now all he wanted to do was go to sleep and seek out his long lost love again.

He lay in his bed in the hospital, the beeping of the machines a constant and annoying noise in his ears; his family surrounding him to say goodbye. Even Kyrie had come, though they had long since separated, neither held any animosity towards the other, their split having been the best thing for them both.

Nero had been hurting after the slow, wasting death that had taken V, the man himself making Nero promise him that he would move on and not waste his life upon a long gone lover; and Kyrie had always held a small torch for Nero. It had seemed like the perfect opportunity for them both to move forwards in their lives, and for a while it had been good. They had gotten married, too quickly some said, and even somehow managed to raise three children together, before they realised that they were drifting apart.

Nero could not forget V, not matter how many years had passed; and Kyrie had realised that although she loved Nero, she was no longer in love with him. That the things she had felt were no more than a crush. But they had held on to their marriage, wanting to do what was best for the children, and it wasn't until the children themselves had come to them that they realised that the break needed to happen then.

It had been the best decision they could have made, the feelings of resentment that they had started to harbour for the other, seeming to fade away and friendship reinserted itself into their relationship. Now forty years later, Nero knew that it was finally time to go home to V.

He smiled at his children, reaching out a shaking hand to brush the tears from their faces; hand falling heavily back upon the bed. Finally Nero's eyes started to fall closed, his last breath escaping him, leaving the room mourning his passing.

Nero woke to a blank, empty white room. He rose from the ground, looking around himself; hoping against hope that V would be there waiting to greet him. But the person standing there waiting for him was not V, but his mother. With a little cry, Nero threw himself towards her, holding her shaking form within his arms tightly.

“Oh Nero, how I've missed you child. I've watched over you for all of your life, and I am so proud of you.”

Nero looked down at her with a watery smile upon his face; eyes roaming over long forgotten features.

“But I know that there's someone else that you are wanting to see now.” She held up a hand as Nero tried to protest. “We will have plenty of time to catch up Nero. But now, go to him. He has been waiting for you too.”

Nero looked in the direction that his mother pointed, hesitating until she nudged him forwards gently; and then breaking into a run. He ran and ran until he felt as though his lungs would burst; and even then he kept running. Nero didn't know if he was going the right way anymore, but there was a pull in his chest, urging him to keep moving; and finally Nero reached the ocean, a wooden dock stretching out towards the horizon, a lone figure standing at the edge.

“V.” Nero sobbed quietly, feet carrying him forwards. “V!” He yelled out louder as he drew closer.

Nero watched as the man jolted in surprise, spinning around with a look of desperate hope painted across his face as he saw just who was racing towards him. Nero saw as V broke from his stupor, a sob tearing from his throat, before breaking into a run to close the distance between them faster. And then there was no distance between them at all, and they fell into one another's embrace.


End file.
